Secrets and Lies
by deepwater1978
Summary: "I'm Elena Gilbert. Katherine Pierce's sister." She looked into Klaus's eyes, then into Stefan's. Finally, she stared down hard at the azure eyes of Damon Salvatore. "Before I'm finished, I'm going to know which one of you killed my sister."
1. Chapter 1

Elena Gilbert gave herself one last, critical look in the dresser mirror. It was important that she make a stunning first impression. They would be astonished when she told them who she was, but she wanted to create an even stronger impact.

At the age of twenty-five, Elena was a very beautiful and attractive young woman with an oval face, light olive complexion, almond-shaped brown eyes, and long, straight dark brown hair.

She wanted to leave them stupefied, speechless, and defenceless. They would undoubtedly make comparisons. She couldn't prevent that; she just didn't want to come out on the short end of then' mental measuring sticks. If she could help it, they would find no flaws in Katherine Pierce's sister.

She had carefully chosen what to wear. Everything - clothes, jewellery, accessories -was in excellent taste. The overall effect was tailored but not severe, smart but not trendy; she exuded an aura of professionalism that didn't compromise her femininity.

Her goal was to impress them first, then surprise them with what had brought her to Mystic Falls.

Concluding that nothing about her appearance could be improved further, she shouldered her handbag, picked up her leather attache case, and, making certain she had her room key, closed the door behind her.

It took her about half an hour to reach the town hall during rush hour. She parked in front of Mystic Falls' Town Hall and fed coins into the meter at the curb. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was ten minutes before nine. She was still early.

Having worked in Richmond for the last year, Elena wasn't intimidated by official buildings. She took the town hall steps with a determined stride and pulled open the heavy doors. Inside, the plaster walls showed peeling paint and signs of general disrepair. The aggregate tile floor had faint cracks in it that crisscrossed like the lines in the palm of an ancient hand.

The ceiling was high. The corridors smelled of industrial-strength cleaning solution, musty record books, and an overdose of perfume that emanated from the receptionist. She looked up expectantly as Elena entered the outer office.

"Hi, there. You lost, honey? How can I help you?"

"Is Mr Richard Lockwood around?"

"Sure is, honey. The mayor is in a meeting. He is kind of busy today."

"I'm from Richmond D.A.'s office. Mr Maxfield called on my behalf, I believe. The mayor is expecting me."

The wad of chewing gum inside the secretary's cheek got a rest from the pounding it had been taking. "You are Miss Gilbert?"

"Yes, I'm."

"Well, Miss Gilbert, you're right on time for your appointment. My name's April. Want some coffee?"

Elena shook her head. "No, thanks. Is everyone here yet?"

Just then, masculine laughter erupted from the other side of the closed door. "That answer your question?"

"Perhaps I shouldn't keep them waiting any longer," Elena said as she followed April toward the door.

Her heart started beating double-time.

"Excuse me." April interrupted the conversation by poking her head into the room. "District Attorney Wes Maxfield's assistant is here." She turned back toward Elena. One set of eyelashes, gummy with navy blue mascara, dropped over her eye in a broad, just-between-us-girls wink. "Go on in."

Elena, bracing herself for the most crucial meeting in her life, entered the office.

The moment she crossed the threshold and April pulled the door closed, the man seated behind the desk sprang to his feet. He ground out a burning cigar in the thick, glass ashtray and reached for his suit coat, which had been draped over the back of his chair.

"Richard Lockwood," he said, extending his hand. "Wes had contacted me last week about this."

Richard Lockwood was the mayor of Mystic Falls. The Lockwood Family is one of the main Founding Families. Almost all of the mayors of Mystic Falls were from the Lockwood family. The Founding Families founded Mystic Falls back in 1860. The first members of these families were founders of Mystic Falls. Most of the members of the Founding Families are also members of Town Council. In his early fifties, Richard Lockwood appeared physically fit and strong.

"Thank you for arranging this meeting, Mr Lockwood."

"No problem, no problem. Glad to be of service to both you and Wes. And call me Richard." Taking her elbow, he turned her toward the other two men, who had come to their feet out of deference to her. "This here is Mr Klaus Mikaelson and Mr Stefan Salvatore."

Confronting them, meeting them eye to eye for the first time, had a strange and powerful impact on her. Curiosity and antipathy warred inside her. She wanted to analyse them, denounce them. Instead, she behaved in the expected civilized manner and extended her hand.

It was clasped by Klaus Mikaelson. The handshake bordered on being too hard, but it was as open and friendly as the face smiling at her.

"A pleasure, madam. Welcome to Mystic Falls." Klaus was a tall, well-built and attractive man in his late thirties but he appeared younger than his age, possibly because of his delicate and yet masculine face. He possessed curled dirty-blond hair and dark blue eyes that contrasted with his pearl-white skin.

The Mikaelson family did not belong to the Founding Families. However, the Mikaelson family was a powerful family in Mystic Falls since early 1900s where they were wealthy landowners and warriors. They remained wealthy and powerful in Mystic Falls as they owned majority of the lands in Mystic Falls.

The next handshake was softer, but no less hearty or friendly. He enfolded Elena's hand warmly, and in a confidence-inspiring voice, said, "I'm Stefan Salvatore. How do you do?"

"How do you do?"

Stefan Salvatore, the youngest son of Giuseppe and Lily Salvatore and the younger brother of Damon Salvatore, was classically handsome and athletic, with a brooding, mysterious and intense aura. He had a pale complexion, broad forehead, strong angular jawline, deep-set, forest green eyes, a straight nose and a well-formed mouth. He had straight, short, dark blonde hair which was gelled.

His forest green eyes held hers long enough to intimate that they were the only two in the room who mattered. She withdrew her hand before Stefan Salvatore seemed ready to relinquish it.

The sight of these two men lined up side-by-side in front of her caused her heart to pound strongly. Klaus on his own could make any woman's pulse take off. But with Klaus backed up by Stefan Salvatore, the effect was twice as potent.

"And over there is Damon. Damon Salvatore."

Elena turned in the direction Richard Lockwood had indicated and located the fourth man, whom she hadn't noticed until now.

Flaunting etiquette, he was still slouched in a chair in the corner of the room. Black leather boots were crossed at the ankles, their toes were insolently wagging back and forth. Damon Salvatore, the eldest son of Giuseppe Salvatore was an extremely handsome man in his thirties. He had a light complexion with olive undertones and had a strong bone structure with high cheeks bones and a solid jaw line. He possessed dark brown almost black hair which hung just over his ears. He had the body of a police officer, Elena noted, or at least the body of one of those heartthrob TV cops. Broad shoulders strained the seams of his black shirt. Sleeves rolled halfway up displayed arms corded muscles. His dark jeans rode low on a washboard-flat belly.

"Mr Salvatore," she said coolly but she couldn't stop her heart from skipping a beat when Damon acknowledged her with a smile that started slow and finished lazy.

"Here, sit yourself down," Richard offered, pointing her toward a chair. "Did April offer you some coffee?"

"Yes, but I told her that I didn't care for any. I would like to get to the purpose of the meeting, if we could."

"Sure enough. Gentlemen, please take your seats." Richard nodded for Klaus and Stefan to sit back down.

When everyone had seated, the mayor returned to his chair behind the desk. "Now, Miss…Well, I'll be damned. During all the introductions, we failed to get your name."

Elena held centre stage. The eyes of three men were trained on her, curiously waiting to hear her name. She paused for dramatic effect, knowing that divulging it would cause a profound reaction. She wanted to witness and catalogue their individual reactions. She wished she could see Damon Salvatore better. He was sitting partially behind her.

She took a breath. "I'm Elena Gilbert. Katherine Pierce's sister."

A stunned silence followed the announcement.

Klaus blinked. "Katherine? You are Katherine's sister?"

"Well, I'll be a sonofabitch." Richard flopped backward in his chair like a collapsing inflatable toy.

"Katherine's sister. My God, I can't believe it," Stefan whispered. "I can't believe it."

The three men openly stared at Elena, searching her face for resemblances to her sister, whom they had known so well.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed that the toes of Damon's boots were no longer wagging. He drew his knees in and sat up straight.

"I have never heard Katherine had a sister," Klaus said.

Richard, befuddled, finally asked, "I thought Katherine was the only child in the Pierce's family?"

"Katherine was adopted by the Pierce's family when she was ten," Elena answered.

"We all know that," Richard said, still confused. "So how Katherine were related to you?"

"Katherine was eight years older than me," Elena answered precisely. "I was only two when our parents separated. Isobel, our mother took Katherine away and moved to Mystic Falls. Katherine was adopted by the Pierce's family a few months later because Isobel couldn't look after her due to financial problems."

"So what happened to Isobel?" Stefan asked.

"She died of cancer last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you."

"Where have you been living all this time?" Klaus asked.

Elena named a town in Richmond. "I lived there all my life - at least, as far back as I can remember. I graduated high school there, went to the University of Virginia, and then, straight into law school. I passed the bar a year ago."

"Did you live with your father all these years?"

"My father died in an accident a month later after Isobel left." She paused. "Drunk driving."

Everyone was silent for a moment.

"I was adopted by my father's eldest brother, Grayson Gilbert and his wife. They desperately wanted to have children but were having difficulties conceiving," she said finally. "I was very lucky because they were great parents."

"Well, you turned out fine, Elena, just fine. Didn't she, Klaus?" Richard said.

Klaus turned on his charming smile full blast. "I would say so. You do bore an uncanny resemblance to your sister, Katherine."

"The dark brown hair, the profile. The way you hold yourself. Damn! You are a dead ringer of Katherine," Stefan said.

"Your sister was close to us. We had known each other for a very long time. She was in the same high school as Stefan. We were good friends, actually." Then, his eyes turned cloudy and he shook his head sorrowfully. "But she died. Tragic thing." He took a quiet moment to collect himself. "How did you find out about Katherine?" he asked curiously.

"Did your adopted parents tell you about this?" Stefan wanted to know more.

"Katherine turned up to our house on my tenth birthday," Elena answered. She could still remember vividly that day when a youthful Katherine appeared on the doorstep of her house, announcing that she was her biological sister. Blood ran thicker than water, and the bond between sisters ran thicker than blood.

She idolized and adored Katherine with the blind passion of a child who had grown up without other siblings. She knew she would never be as gifted, or clever, or charismatic as her sister but she constantly worked toward being as good at everything as Kathrine had been. So it came as a stunning blow to hear from her parents that Katherine was killed.

But Katherine had not been murdered by the accused, Gregor Bradley. Until a few months ago, however, Elena hadn't known the Pierce family had strong suspicion in Katherine's death. Elizabeth Pierce, Katherine's adopted mother had contacted her one night to arrange a meeting. Elizabeth was living in a private hospital, dying from heart failure.

Finding out had been the darkest hour of Elena's life.

"It'll be up to you, Elena, to set the record right," Elizabeth told her. "That's the least you can do for your sister. Ask them."

"Ask who?"

"Who, Mrs Pierce? Ask who?"

"The one who murdered her. Klaus, Stefan, Damon."

Immediately upon her return to Richmond, she began to research the murder case of Katherine Pierce. She spent many sleepless nights studying transcripts and court documents. She was glad she had chosen the legal profession. Elena had excelled in school and had ultimately graduated from the University of Virginia in the top ten per cent of her class. She had chosen law as her profession and thankfully it was a field that intrigued and delighted her. Her curious mind enjoyed delving into its intricacies. She was well prepared to do what she must.

She read everything she could get her hands on - newspaper accounts, transcripts of Gregor Bradley's hearing - until she had the facts memorized. They were basic and simple. Mr Gregor Bradley, who was mentally retarded, had been arrested near the murder scene with the victim's blood on his clothing. At the time of his arrest, he had had in his possession the knife with which he had allegedly killed the victim. He was jailed, questioned, and charged. Within days there was a hearing. The judge had declared Bradley incompetent to stand trial and had confined him to a state mental hospital.

It didn't make sense that why Gregor Bradley would kill Katherine. The attending psychiatrist from the mental hospital said that Gregor Bradley was a model patient. He never demonstrated any violent tendencies. He had no apparent sex drive, and in the doctor's expert opinion, he was incapable of committing a crime that could cost Katherine's life. It made Elena believed what Elizabeth Pierce had told her. Gregor Bradley was not the murderer.

She was very determined to find out the truth of Katherine's death when she approached her boss, the district attorney of Richmond. Wes Maxfield was one of the best attorneys in Richmond. He had been her mentor and friend since the summer before her first semester of law school, when she had worked in the prosecutor's office.

"You want to reopen a fifteen-year-old murder case?" he asked her when she stated the purpose of the conference she had requested. "Got a reason?"

"Because the victim was my sister."

For the first time since she had known him, Wes had asked a question he didn't already know the answer to - or at least have a fairly good guess. "Jesus, Elena, I'm sorry. I didn't know that."

She gave a slight, dismissive shrug. "Well, it's not something one advertises, is it?"

"When was this? How old were you?"

"I was ten. She was only eighteen when she was killed."

"The case remains on the books as officially unsolved?'"

"Not exactly. There was a suspect arrested and charged, but the case was dismissed without ever going to trial."

It wasn't easy to persuade Wes to agree for her to reopen the case.

He read the documents, then muttered, "It looks fishy, but it can't prove anything."

"I understand, Wes. I won't be able to produce any concrete evidence. The case is fifteen years old. All I can hope for is enough probable cause to bring it before a grand jury. A confession from the real killer - because I'm convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Gregor Bradley did not murder my sister - is a pipe dream. There's also the slim possibility of smoking out an eyewitness."

Wes said nothing for a moment. "The case remains unsolved because Gregor Bradley was never brought to trial," he said at last. "I have to tell you, though - I'm doing this against my better judgment, and only because I trust your gut instincts. I like you, Elena. You had proved yourself when you were interning here as a law student. You are good to have in our corner."

He looked down at the material she had compiled and fiddled with a corner of one folder. "I still think you have got a personal grudge against these guys, the town, whatever. I'm not saying it's unjustified. It's just not something you can build a case around. But I agree with you. There is something fishy about Bradley's affidavit that doesn't seem to make sense." He raised his eyes and stared at her balefully. "Go ahead."

"You mean, I can go to Mystic Falls?"

"That's where it happened, isn't it?"

"Yes, but what about my caseload?"

"I'll put interns on the preparations and ask for postponements."

"Thank you, Wes," she said earnestly.

"Not so fast," he said, snuffing her enthusiasm. "You've got thirty days."

"What?"

"Thirty days to come up with something."

"But…"

"That's as long as I can spare you without jeopardizing the work in the office. That's longer than your hunch and flimsy leads warrant. Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it." Elena leaned across his desk. "I know I'm right. I'll bring the real killer to trial, and when I do, I'll get a conviction. See if I don't."

"Make sure you do. Don't let me down," Wes said.

The dull bonging of the grandfather clock in the meeting room, chiming the hour, finally aroused her. She sat up and straightened her skirt. "Katherine and I kept in touch since my tenth birthday until she died." Elena saw no merit in sparing their sensibilities.

Both Klaus and Stefan just looked at her and said nothing.

"Katherine's death was tragic but that was a long time ago. Anyway, this is the first time we have heard Katherine had a sister." Smiling, Richard slapped his thighs. "It is great to have you here in Mystic Falls."

"Thank you, but," Elena opened her briefcase and took out a manila envelope. "I'm not here to stay, Mr Lockwood. Actually, I'm acting in an official capacity." She passed the envelope across the desk to the mayor, who looked at it with puzzlement.

"Official capacity? When Wes called me and asked if I would help out his top prosecutor, he said something about reopening a case."

"It's all in there," Elena said, nodding down at the envelope. "I suggest that you peruse the contents and thoroughly acquaint yourself with the details. Wes Maxfield requests the full cooperation and assistance of your office and local law enforcement agencies, Mr Lockwood. He assured me that you would comply with this request for the duration of my investigation." She closed her attache with a decisive snap, stood, and headed for the door.

"Investigation?" The mayor came to his feet. Klaus and Stefan did likewise.

"What has it to do with us?" Klaus asked. "Mayor Lockwood has asked the three of us to turn up for this meeting this morning. But why? What's the purpose of this meeting?"

"What investigation are you talking about?" Stefan asked. "Is it something to do with the Founding Families?"

"But Klaus isn't the Founding Families," Richard answered.

"As far as I know, it is," Elena told them. "My investigation has nothing to do with the Founding Families."

After a moment, when she didn't elaborate, Richard asked, "Well, then, what does it have to do with, Miss Gilbert?"

Drawing herself up to her full height, she said, "I am reopening a fifteen-year-old murder case. Wes Maxfield asked for your help, Mr Lockwood, since the crime was committed in Mystic Falls."

She looked into Klaus's eyes, then into Stefan's. Finally, she stared down hard at the azure eyes of Damon Salvatore.

"Before I'm finished, I'm going to know which one of you killed my sister."


	2. Chapter 2

Elena peeled off her suit jacket and tossed it onto the motel bed. Her palms were damp and her knees were ready to buckle. She was nauseated. The scene in the mayor's office had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.

She had left Richard Lockwood's office with her head held high and her shoulders back. She hadn't walked too fast, but she hadn't dawdled. She had smiled good-bye to April, who had obviously been eavesdropping through the door because she stared at Elena with wide-opened eyes, her mouth agape.

Elena's exit line had been well rehearsed, well timed and perfectly executed. The meeting had gone just as she had planned it, but she was vastly relieved that it was over.

Now, she peeled off one cloying piece of clothing after another. She would love to think that the worst was behind her, but she feared it was yet to come. The three men she had met today wouldn't roll over and play dead. She would have to confront them again, and when she did, they wouldn't be so overjoyed to see her.

Klaus Mikaelson seemed charming and polite but Elena knew he was not as simple as he appeared. The Mikaelson family was the richest, most powerful family in Mystic Falls. Klaus went to college and became successful in business. One didn't achieve that status solely through benign leadership. He would fight to keep what he had spent a lifetime cultivating.

Stefan Salvatore was seen as the 'Golden Boy' in Mystic Falls when he was young and he had the admiration and respect of the entire town and most of all, of his father Giuseppe Salvatore who died of a heart attack five years ago. Lily Salvatore had died of cancer before Stefan turned three. The Salvatore brothers had been raised by their father since then. The years had been kind to Stefan. He had changed little from the photographs Elena had seen of him as an adolescent. He was ambitious and studious and he desired to become a doctor since he was a child. And now he was an attending physician at the emergency room at Mystic Falls Hospital. Stefan was liked, admired by and popular with women. He was seen to be chivalrous, gallant, romantic, well-mannered, courteous and polite, traits which could made Katherine Pierce fall deeply for the younger Salvatore. It would be easy for Elena to like him. It would also be easy to suspect him of murder.

Damon Salvatore was the toughest for her to pigeonhole because her impressions of him were the least specific. Unlike the others, he didn't interact with her much in the meeting. Damon the man looked much harder and stronger than Damon the young man from the photograph. Her first impression was that he was arrogant, unfriendly, and dangerous.

Why the hell had he gone into law enforcement? She wondered, not for the first time. The Salvatore family was fairly wealthy and Elena was sure Giuseppe had wanted him to run the family business. But obviously Damon had been too rambunctious to stay in the family business.

She was certain that one of these men had killed her sister.

x x x

The police department was located in town close to the Town Hall. For the second time in as many days, Elena parked her car in a metered slot on the square and entered the building.

It was early. There wasn't much activity in the row of offices on the lower level. In the centre of this warren of cubicles was a large squad room, no different from any other in the nation. A pall of cigarette smoke hovered over it like a perpetual cloud. Several uniformed officers were gathered around a hot plate where coffee was simmering. One was talking, but when he saw Elena, he stopped in midsentence.

One by one, heads turned, until all were staring at her. She felt glaringly out of place in what was obviously a male domain. Equal employment hadn't penetrated the ranks of the Mystic Falls Police Department.

She held her ground and said pleasantly, "Good morning. My name is Elena Gilbert. I need to see Sergeant Salvatore, please."

She heard a soft laugh. "You're the one, huh?"

"The one?"

"The one who accused Klaus and the Salvatore brothers of murder."

So they already knew who she was and why she was there. Word travelled fast in a town like Mystic Falls.

"Is he expecting you?" One of the officers asked belligerently.

"I believe he will see me," she said confidently.

"Did the mayor send you over?"

"He's aware of why I'm here. Is Sergeant Salvatore here?" she repeated with some asperity.

"I don't think so."

"I haven't seen him."

"Yeah, he's here," one officer said grudgingly. "He came in a few minutes ago.'" He nodded his head toward a hallway.

"Last door on your left, madam."

"Thank you."

Elena gave them a gracious smile she didn't feel in her heart and walked toward the hallway. She was conscious of the eyes focused on her back. She knocked on the indicated door.

"Come in."

Damon Salvatore sat behind a scarred wooden desk that was probably as old as the cornerstone of the building. His booted feet were crossed and resting on one corner of it. Like yesterday, he was slouching, this time in a swivel chair. The skin at the sides of his eyes crinkled in the beginnings of a grin when he saw her.

"Well, I know you would show up sooner or later, Miss Gilbert." He eased himself upright. "But I didn't figure on it being this early in the morning." He came to his feet and indicated the chair across the desk in the room. He moved toward a table that contained a coffee maker. "How do you find Mystic Falls, Miss Gilbert?"

She closed the door with such emphasis that the frosted-glass panel rattled. "You know why I'm here."

He filled a cup with coffee. "You haven't answered my question."

"This isn't a social call, Sergeant Salvatore."

He set a cup of black coffee on the edge of the desk in front of her without waiting for her to decline or accept his offer and returned to his chair. "Do you like Mystic Falls?"

"I haven't been here long enough to form an opinion."

"Aw, come on. I'll bet your mind was made up not to like it before you ever got here."

"Why do you say that?"

"It would stand to reason, wouldn't it? Your sister died here."

His casual reference to Katherine's death rankled her. "She didn't just die. She was murdered. Brutally."

He felt his jaw tightened. "I remember."

"You discovered Katherine's body, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," he answered grimly.

"Did you kill my sister, Sergeant Salvatore?"

Since she hadn't been able to accurately gauge his reaction the day before, she wanted to see it now.

"No." His tone was firm. Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on the desk and gave her a level stare. "Let's cut through the bullshit, okay? Understand this right now, and it will save us both a lot of time. If you want to interrogate me, Counsellor, you will have to subpoena me to appear before the grand jury."

"You are refusing to cooperate with my investigation?"

"I didn't say that. This office will be at your disposal per the mayor's instructions. I will personally help you any way I can."

Elena eyed him with deep suspicion. "Why are you so eager to help me?"

"Because I want it over and done with, finished. You understand? So you can go back to Richmond where you belong, and leave the past in the past where it belongs." He stood up and moved to the window. "Why did you come here?"

"Because Gregor Bradley did not kill Katherine."

"How the hell do you know? Or did you just ask him?"

"I couldn't. He is mentally retarded and has a speech impediment. Nobody could actually understand him."

Damon nodded. "Yes, Gregor is retarded."

He continued to stare through the open slats of the blinds with his back to her. His silhouette was trim, broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped. His jeans fit a little too well.

Elena berated herself for noticing. She had never been attracted to tough, muscled cowboy-cop types before. Her ex-boyfriend was an accountant. The few men she had dated in law school were never martial art types. Yet she was curious to learn more about this man behind the blue and gold shield. Like how many women had he dated after Katherine's death. And how many women had he taken to bed.

From the moment she met him in the mayor's office yesterday, he had crowded almost everyone and everything else out of her mind. She had never imagined law enforcement officers could be so damned attractive.

She put the brakes on that thought, fast. Damon Salvatore looked dangerously handsome. She bet he could tempt a postmenopausal nun to sin with one of his devastating grins if he put his mind to it. The fact that Elena hadn't had a serious relationship for a long time could explain why the heck her skin prickled whenever she saw him.

She had darn well better remember he was one of the three suspects, and she was here to find out the real killer. She had to remind herself of that sobering fact every time her skin started to prickle.

"Gregor was a scavenger," he continued. "Little girls were warned to stay away from him. We boys made fun of him, played pranks, things like that."

"He was locked up in a mental institution for a crime he didn't commit."

Her comment brought him around. "You've got nothing to prove that he didn't."

"I will find the proof."

"None exists."

"Are you so sure? Did you destroy the incriminating evidence the morning you ostensibly found Katherine's body?"

A deep crease formed between his heavy eyebrows.

"Haven't you got anything better to do? Don't you already have a heavy enough caseload? Why did you start investigating this in the first place?"

She gave him the same catchall reason she had given Wes Maxfield. "Justice was not served. Gregor Bradley was innocent. He took the blame for somebody else's crime."

"Me, Stefan or Klaus?"

"Yes, one of the three of you."

"Who told you that?"

"Elizabeth Pierce."

His brow hitched. "Mrs Pierce? Have you seen her?"

"She is dead."

She could tell by his reaction that he hadn't known. "When?"

"A few months ago. Heart failure," she said softly.

"Did she believe one of the three of us had killed Katherine?" He asked quietly.

"Yes."

He went still. Completely still. The air around them took on a charged tension.

"She was wrong."

"Well, I don't think so," Elena said defensively. "I believe there are enough holes in this case to warrant reinvestigation. So does District Attorney Maxfield."

"You are wasting your time," he growled. "You won't find anything."

"Do you blame me for wanting justice? If your brother had been stabbed to death, wouldn't you do everything possible to see that his killer was punished?"

Damon frowned but said nothing.

"You are a suspect, Sergeant Salvatore." She stood up and retrieved her purse. "Thank you for the coffee. I will nail my sister's killer. This is for sure."

"Wait a minute."

Elena, already making her way toward the door, stopped and turned. "What?"

"Alright, I will assist you in any way I can. I promise you."

She watched as he reached for his leather jacket. He stepped around her, pulled open the door for her, then followed her out.

"Hey, Luke, I'm leaving. But I will be back later." The officer nodded. "This way," Damon said, taking Elena's elbow and guiding her toward a small, square elevator at the end of the hall.

They got into it together. The door creaked when he pulled it closed. The sound of grinding gears wasn't very reassuring. Elena hoped it would make the trip.

She tried to help it along by concentrating hard on their ascent. All the same, she was fully aware of Damon Salvatore standing so close to her that their clothing touched. He was studying her.

He said, "You resemble Katherine."

"Yes, I know."

"Your size, your smile, your eyes. Your hair is straight, though." His gaze moved over her face. "But there's a striking resemblance."

"Thank you. I think my sister was beautiful."

"Everybody thought so."

"Including you?"

"Especially me."

The elevator jerked to an abrupt stop. Elena lost her balance and fell against him. Damon caught her arm and supported her long enough for her to regain her balance, which might have taken a little too long, because when they separated, Elena felt light-headed and breathless.

Damon had felt it too. Dammit, being attracted to Elena Gilbert would only complicate matters. The shape of her calves, the enticing sway of her hips, and all else that had immediately captured his notice when she had entered Richard Lockwood's office yesterday morning. Hell, he had hardly slept last night after meeting her. He had kept himself under control while in his office, though, until she fell against him. He had felt her on every square inch of his body. Could still feel her. He had come within half a heartbeat of backing her against the wall of the elevator, unpeeling the suit, and kissing her. He had to pull rein, and fast.

They were on the first floor. He shrugged into his jacket as he guided her toward a rear exit. "Have you had breakfast?"

She blinked and refocused. "You're hungry?"

"Starving. I woke up this morning and realized I didn't have any coffee in the house. Nothing to eat, either. Forgot to stop at the grocery store last night. Are you hungry?"

Before she had a chance to answer, he pushed open the door of Mystic Grill which was close by the police department. The café was redolent with the heavenly fragrance of freshly baked bread and frying bacon. Damon led her to a vacant table at the end of the café.

It was going on ten o'clock when Elena and Damon arrived. A number of people were sprinkled around the handful of tables. The customers were primarily a mix of local residents and a couple of tourists.

The heads of the locals swivelled immediately toward the door when Damon walked in with Elena. Elena could guess their thoughts. No doubt this Mystic Grill was a popular place for the local residents every morning during coffee-break time. A stranger in the midst was news, but the return of Katherine Pierce's sister was a news bulletin. Elena felt like a lightning rod, because she certainly attracted electric currents. Some, she sensed, were unfriendly.

"Busy place," she commented as she slid in the chair across from him.

"The Grill is a popular hang-out place for the locals."

A waitress in purple polyester pants and a bright gold satin blouse approached them with two cups of coffee and a plate of fresh corn bread muffins. She winked and said, "Good morning, Damon," before ambling off.

"You should try this. Great corn bread," he said as he took a bite of one of the muffins on the plate. "You can't find it anywhere, except at the Grill."

Elena took Damon up on his offer. The corn bread muffins were still warm and they smelled so good.

"They had this waiting for you. Is this your table? Do you have a standing order?'"

"I come here every morning for the last ten years." He took another bite.

"The corn bread is nice."

"Hmm."

He devoured two corn bread muffins and washed them down with black coffee, wasting neither food, nor time, nor motion. He ate like he thought it might be a long time before his next meal.

"Tell me about Klaus."

"Suave and charming."

"Klaus and you grew up together," Elena said.

"Yes," he answered. "Klaus is two years older but we were good friends almost for as far back as I could remember. Our parents thought we shared the same brain. We shared everything else. Bikes, toys, food."

"Girls?"

"Sometimes. In our wilder days," he said without any embarrassment that she could detect.

She could imagine them almost at every stage, but especially as college men. Equally attractive. Klaus: suave, and charming. Damon: handsome and dangerous. Yes, Damon Salvatore was definitely dangerous.

"And then?"

"There is no 'and then'." He looked at her. "We are still friends."

"But the friendship has changed, hasn't it?"

Damon said nothing.

"Did Katherine's death have anything to do with that?"

"Maybe. We didn't – couldn't talk about it."

"Why?"

"It was too damned hard. Why the hell do you think?"

"Why was it hard to be around Klaus and talk about Katherine's death?"

"Because we had always been close. One of us was suddenly missing. It didn't feel right to be together."

"How did you and my sister get to be such close friends? She was younger than you."

"Not that much," he said dismissively. "Katherine was a classmate of Stefan. They were good friends since she was adopted by the Pierce's family."

Katherine Pierce.

Damon had never noticed what a beauty she was until her junior year in high school. She followed Stefan around since she was adopted by the Pierce's family. She was in and out of their house on a daily basis. He had liked her like the sister he never had. He had always thought of her as a tomboy until the day he had seen her in Miss Mystic Falls pageant. The sea-green georgette crepe draped close to her body and hung in soft folds at her feet. In a Grecian style, one shoulder was left bare while, on the other, the fabric was gathered into a graceful knot.

Suddenly he had become aware of just how beautiful Katherine really was. The fiery glint of her long curly dark brown hair and the sparkle in those brown eyes drew him like a magnet. Little Katherine Pierce had grown up and blossomed into a raving beauty.

There was only one problem. No, two problems. Both Stefan and Klaus were also attracted to her.

"It never became awkward?"

"Nope. We sort of grew up together." His mouth turned up in a grin of remembrance. "We shared secrets, and dreams of future, and sometimes just each other's company."

"Klaus got to know Katherine because of you."

"We were a foursome, always been a foursome for a very long time."

"Isn't that the kind of relationship a girl usually has with other girls?"

"Usually, but Katherine didn't have many girlfriends. Most of the girls were jealous of her."

"Why?" Elena already knew the answer. She knew even before he shrugged. "It was because of her friendship with the three of you, wasn't it?"

"Why are you so interested in our friendship with Katherine?" he scowled at her. "You still think one of the three of us killed her?"

"Yes, one of the three of you."

"For heaven sake!" he cursed. "How could you think that one of the three of us killed your sister? She was our best friend. We couldn't have lifted a finger to hurt that girl."

Elena wanted to believe him. She didn't want to believe that Damon could have killed Katherine under any circumstances.

He was chauvinistic, arrogant, and as testy as a rattler.

But a killer? He didn't look like one. Or was it just that she had always had a weakness for dark hair and blue eyes; for tight, faded jeans and worn leather jackets; for men who walked and talked and smelled and sounded and felt consummately male?

Damon Salvatore was all of that.

"Were you in love with Katherine?"

He gave her an odd look, then answered simply, "We all loved Katherine."

"You loved her, didn't you?" she said softly.

"None of your goddamn business." He got to his feet. "You would do well to leave the past alone, Miss Gilbert."

"I have no intention of dropping this investigation until I know who killed my sister and why. I won't be dissuaded now."

She grabbed her purse and clambered out of the chair.

Cursing beneath his breath, Damon watched her walk out of the Grill. Katherine's sister, he thought now, shaking his head in consternation. It was little wonder that he found Elena so damned attractive. He had fell for her sister when he had to escort her for the Miss Mystic Falls pageant's dance. Stefan was supposed to be her escort but ended up with gastroenteritis on that morning of the pageant. To save Katherine's from her embarrassment, Damon had stepped in.

He had always liked Katherine but at that moment he fell in love with her. So he knew he shouldn't be surprised that the assistant D.A. from Richmond had churned up such emotions inside him.

Perhaps his only cause for alarm should be their intensity.

He would like to pass off his interest as purely nostalgic, a tender reminder of the woman he had once loved. But he would be lying to himself. If he needed any help defining the nature of his interest, all he had to do was acknowledge the warm pressure that had developed inside his jeans as he had watched Elena lick the bits of corn bread off her lips.

"Christ," he swore.

How could two women, fifteen years apart, have such a pivotal impact on his life? Loving Katherine had already hurt so much. Her sister posed just as real a threat. If she started digging into the past, God only knew what kind of trouble would be stirred up.

As he left the Grill and re-entered the police department, he cursed Elena Gilbert for coming to Mystic Falls. At the same time, he couldn't help but wonder if her smart mouth wouldn't be good for something besides spouting accusations and legal jargon.


	3. Chapter 3

The row of shops that lined the street was dark and silent at this hour. The last rays of the autumn sun were veiled behind the thickening layer of clouds. Elena parked in the small lot of the motel. When she climbed out from behind the wheel, a snapping breeze tugged at her coat. The rain would hit at any time, she thought.

Knowing she wouldn't want to go out again, she picked up a box of sushi. By the time she spread the meal on the round table near the windows of her room, she didn't have the appetite to eat anymore. Her mind drifted back to the case. And Damon came to her mind.

It wasn't difficult to tell from Damon's expression that he was in love with Katherine. Did Stefan and Klaus love her too? But who did Katherine love? Damon, Stefan or Klaus? Did Damon kill her because of jealousy?

Loath to review her notes again, she decided to switch on the TV. The movie she watched was a comedy she didn't have to think about. She was feeling better by the time it was over, and decided to take a shower.

She had just dried off and wrapped her wet hair in a towel when someone knocked on her door. Pulling on her long, white terry cloth robe and knotting the tie at her waist, she peered through the peephole. It was Stefan Salvatore.

Elena pulled opened the door and stood aside.

"Can I come in?" Stefan asked, with a small smile on his face. His green eyes were friendly and disarming.

"Why are you here?"

"I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About Katherine."

Elena led the way to the table and chair in the motel. "How did you know where I am staying?"

"Everybody knows everything about everybody in this town."

"Obviously there is no secret in this town," she said flatly.

"If you don't want me here, I will leave."

"No. It's alright." She curled up in a corner of the sofa, one leg tucked under the curve of her thigh. "You came here to talk about Katherine. I want to know more about her."

Stefan removed his coat and lowered himself into a chair. He eyed the remains of her supper. "Did I disturb your supper?"

"No. Not really. I'm not hungry anyway. But I didn't want to go out to eat because of the weather."

"Heavy rain late in the evening is not unusual for this time of the year in Mystic Falls."

"Why are you here, Mr Salvatore?"

"Stefan. Call me Stefan." His grin was open, warm, disarming. "Your sister was my best friend. We were very close. Don't you think that should put us on a first-name basis?"

It was impossible to erect barriers against his smile. It would have melted iron. "Then, call me Elena," she said, smiling back.

His eyes moved from her head to her legs. "You do look like your sister."

"I know."

"She was in the same class as me since I was ten. She was my best friend," he said softly. "She was beautiful."

"Is that what first attracted you to her? Because she was beautiful?"

"Hell, no," he said with a brief smile. "Katherine was special. She was very passionate about life."

She straightened. "But one of you killed her."

"No, Elena. I didn't kill Katherine."

"What about Klaus? Do you think he did?"

He shook his head. "He treated Katherine like a sister. Thought of her that way, too."

"And Damon?"

He shrugged as though no elaboration was necessary. "Damon, well…"

"What?"

"Damon could never have killed her."

She pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly. Thinking. "I spent some time in the public library this afternoon, reading back issues of the local newspaper."

"Anything about me?"

"Oh, yes. There were a few on your job as the attending physician at the ER at Mystic Falls Hospital."

He gave her a fleeting smile. "It's my job as a doctor. Nothing fascinating."

"I found something on Miss Mystic Falls pageant where my sister was one of the contestants. Damon was her escort."

Studying that photograph had made Elena feel very strange. She had never seen it before. Damon and Katherine were dancing at the pageant. The chemistry between them was obvious.

Coming back to the present, she said, "You said you were my sister's best friend. Why didn't you escort her for the dance?"

"I was sick that morning. Gastroenteritis." He looked down and stared at his shoes. "Damon stepped in for me. Damon turned out to be a much better dancer than me. Katherine won the title of Miss Mystic Falls that year. Your sister was ecstatic."

"You were disappointed, weren't you?"

"Uh-huh." He did not want to talk any more about that time in his life. It was tied up too closely with Katherine's death. He glanced around the room. "Looks like you planned to stay here for a while."

"Yes, I won't leave until I find out who's the killer."

He couldn't think of anything to say to that so he tried another topic. "How come you wanted to be a lawyer?"

"My dad, I should say my uncle, Grayson Gilbert is a lawyer. He must have spoon-fed me doses of determination, along with my vegetables since I was young."

Stefan smiled. "Katherine would be happy to know her little sister has turned out fine."

Her brow beetled as an original idea occurred to her. "Did my sister ever express any interest in having a career?"

"Not that I ever heard her mention," Stefan said. "She was very good in arts. I thought she might want to become an artist. Katherine did well in literature as well. Our literature teacher was very impressed with her."

"She died too young," Elena said with a trace of regret. "She might turn out to be a very successful person if she didn't die."

"But I do remember we talked about our dreams on her sixteen birthday," Stefan said dreamily, "like it was yesterday. We celebrated her birthday at the Lakehouse. After we had eaten them we spread out a quilt under a tree near the Dunham Lake and stretched out on our backs. We just lay there, talking, you know, about what we were going to be once we grew up. I said I wanted to be a doctor. I have always wanted to be a doctor." He chuckled, "Klaus wanted to be successful in business and he did in the end. He is now the most successful businessman in Mystic Falls."

"What about Damon?" Elena asked.

"Damon was somehow different at that time."

She raised a brow. "Different?"

He sighed. "Our mother died of cancer when we were very young. Dad was very busy with his company and we hardly saw him. We were looked after by nannies."

She was silent for a moment, considering his words. "Did he always wanted to become a cop?"

Stefan shook his head. "When he was young, Damon had chosen to pretend to himself and everyone else that he did not give a damn about his own future. "Live for the moment" had been his motto, until Katherine's death."

Elena's eyes widened. "Are you telling me that Damon has chosen to become a cop because of Katherine's death?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Damon never talks about it." He paused a moment and looked down at his hands. "Damon loved her. He could never have killed her."

"They say there is a thin line between love and hate," she ventured cautiously.

"All Katherine wanted was to marry someone."

Elena was astonished. "Marry someone? Who?"

"Damon," he answered. "I overheard her conversation with Damon one day. She wanted to be his wife."

Elena started. From her conversation with Damon and Stefan, it was very obvious Damon was in love with Katherine. The photograph of both of them dancing in the Miss Mystic Falls pageant bore that out. But Elena hadn't known that her sister had wanted to marry him. She knew her expression must reflect her shock.

"I'd better be on my way." He stood up. "It's getting late. It's nice talking to you, Elena."

She uncoiled from the depths of the sofa "Did you love her, Stefan?"

"Yes, I did." His mouth twisted sadly. "But she only wanted to marry Damon. There was never any question about that."

x x x

The cemetery gates were open. Elena drove through them. She had never been to her sister's grave, but she knew the plot number. It had been jotted down and filed among some official papers that she had found when she was reviewing the case.

The sky looked cold and unfriendly. The sun was suspended just above the western horizon like a giant orange disk, brilliant but brassy. Tombstones cast long shadows across the dead grass.

Using discreet signposts for reference, Elena located the correct row, parked her car, and got out. As far as she could tell, she was the only person there.

Even though she was searching for it, she wasn't prepared to see the grave. It rushed up on her unexpectedly. Her impulse was to turn away, as though she had happened upon an atrocity, something horrible and offensive.

The rectangular marker was no more than two feet high. She wouldn't have ever noticed it if it weren't for the name. It gave only her sister's date of birth, and date of death - nothing else. Not an epitaph. Not an obligatory, "In loving memory of." Nothing but the barest statistical facts.

The scarcity of information broke Elena's heart. Katherine had been so young and pretty and full of promise, yet she had been diminished to anonymity.

She knelt beside the grave. It was set apart from the others, alone at the crest of a gradual incline. Mr and Mrs Pierce had moved to Hampton after Katherine died. Mrs Pierce, who had just passed away, was buried in Hampton. Katherine's grave was starkly solitary.

The headstone was cold to the touch. She traced the carved letters of her sister's first name with her fingertip, then pressed her hand on the brittle grass in front of it, as though feeling for a heartbeat. She had foolishly imagined that she might be able to communicate with her supernaturally, but the only sensation she felt was that of the stubbly grass pricking her palm.

"Hello, Katherine," she whispered softly. "I'm here to see you."

"I'm sure she would be happy."

Startled, Elena spun around. Pressing a hand to her pounding heart, she gasped in fright. "You scared me. What are you doing here?"

Damon knelt beside her and laid a bouquet of fresh flowers against the headstone. He studied it for a moment, then turned his head to face her. "Have you been here before?"

"No." Elena looked back at the name carved into the cold, impersonal grey stone. "I have never been here. I only found out where her grave is when I reviewed the documents."

"Hmm."

She touched the bouquet he had brought and rubbed the petal of a red rose between her cold fingertips. In comparison, the flower felt like warm velvet, but it was the colour of blood.

"Do you bring flowers to my sister's grave often, Sergeant Salvatore?"

He didn't answer until she was looking at him again. "Katherine liked red roses."

"Do you bring flowers here often?"

"Klaus, Stefan and I usually bring something out on her birthday, Christmas, Easter. We split the cost of having the grave tended."

"Still miss her, don't you?" Elena shrewdly studied him.

"Sometimes."

"Stefan said Katherine wanted to marry you," she murmured.

"That's none of your business."

"It is my business."

"How so?"

"Because you loved my sister."

Damon pulled up a blade of grass and began to shred it between his fingers. "It was a silly joke. She wouldn't marry me."

She gazed at him in amazement. "Why not?"

He gritted his teeth. "How the hell do I know?" He stood up, brushing off the dry grass on his trouser.

"What happened between Katherine and you? Why wouldn't she marry you?" She narrowed her eyes. "You had another woman?"

He blinked and coughed. "What?"

"Did you sleep with Katherine?"

His eyes turned dark. "None of your goddamn business. Is this a formal interrogation?"

"Conversation," she replied.

"Subpoena me if you want more conversation," he tossed over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Damon!" Impulsively, she struck out after him and grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket. He stopped, glanced down where her fingers were curled into the age-softened leather, then came around slowly and stared at her.

She let go of his sleeve and fell back a step. She wasn't frightened; rather, she was shocked at herself. She hadn't intended to call his name like that, and she certainly hadn't intended to touch him, especially after what had happened in the elevator the other day.

Wetting her lips nervously, she said, "I want to know what happened between Katherine and you. Stefan said all she wanted was to marry you."

"I told you she wouldn't marry me. It was a silly joke. We were young at that time. Silly and naïve. Why don't you just let it go?"

"Were you seeing another woman at that time? There was another woman, wasn't there?"

She could see annoyance building up behind his blue eyes. "You want to know what goes on in my bed." He took a step closer and lowered his voice. "Why don't you ask me about that?"

Elena refused to let him provoke her, which she knew came closer to his intention than seduction. "Did you sleep with Katherine? Were you sleeping with other women at the same time?"

Again, he gave her a slow, knowing grin. "You want to know how many women I have slept with. Why? Jealous?"

"I hate being patronized, Mr Salvatore, just because I'm a woman prosecutor."

"Then stop being one."

"A woman?"

"A prosecutor."

"Did you?"

"What?"

"Did you sleep with other women at that time?"

His eyes turned even colder. "You are interfering with business that doesn't concern you."

"This does concern me."

He folded his arms across his chest. "I can hardly wait to hear this rationalization."

She didn't let his sarcasm daunt her. "Stefan overheard Katherine's conversation with you. She wanted to be your wife."

"She wouldn't be my wife, okay?" he said with devastating honesty. "I was a nobody. She wanted someone who could take her away from Mystic Falls."

Elena was stunned. "But the Salvatore family is fairly wealthy and you can take over the family business…"

"I'm not interested in business. I'm not Klaus. I want to do my own thing."

She drew in a shaky breath. "Katherine, I take it, didn't share, that understanding?"

"Nope. She wanted to marry me but I couldn't give what she had wanted."

Elena was appalled to realize that she felt an insidious little tendril of sympathy for him. "You were devastated."

"Yes, I was devastated but I got over it."

"Did you?" she asked.

A long silence followed. Damon regarded her with the concentration of a hunter who finally has his quarry in the cross hairs.

Very quietly, he said, "Good try, Counsellor, but I'm not admitting anything."

He tried to move away then, but she caught his arms. "Did you kill her because she wouldn't marry you? She found someone and you were upset, so you killed her."

Suddenly, he hooked his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her against him, placing her face directly beneath his. His eyes bore into hers.

"Listen carefully, Counsellor," he whispered. "I'm not going to repeat this again. I didn't kill Katherine."

x x x

Elena dawdled over her meal. The lasagne tasted like cardboard. Nothing diverted her mind from the disturbing conversation she had had with Damon in the cemetery a few hours ago. One thought kept haunting her. Was Katherine dating another guy at that time? Katherine wanted to marry someone who could take her out of Mystic Falls. In other words, Katherine's priority was finding someone who was rich and powerful.

Klaus Mikaelson. Was Katherine seeing Klaus at that time? A chill of disbelief numbed Elena. Did Katherine have a bad habit of playing both ends against the middle? Was Damon nothing more than a plaything for her? What about her relationship with Stefan? Was she using Stefan as well?

Her mind was steeped in speculation when her telephone rang.

"I hope I haven't called at a bad time," Stefan said.

"What's up, Stefan?"

"How does dinner and dancing sound?"

"You're inviting me out for dinner and dancing?"

"It's the Founders' Party and Heritage Display. Please say you'll go with me. Otherwise, it'll be boring as hell."

Elena laughed. "Stefan, I doubt you would ever bored."

"Okay, let me phrase it this way. It won't be as boring if you come along."

"You're actually serious?"

"Why would I joke about this? Are you free tomorrow night?"

"I can't go, Stefan."

"How come?"

"I just don't think it would be a good idea for us to socialize."

"Because you are hoping I will soon be a resident of the Mystic Falls Prison?"

"No!"

"Then, what?"

"I don't want to send you to prison, but you are a key suspect in a murder case."

"Elena, do you honestly believe I could commit such a crime?" Stefan asked quietly. "I'm a doctor. My job is to save lives."

There was a brief pause. "No, I don't," she replied softly. "But you are still a suspect. It wouldn't do any good for us to be seen together."

"Elena, please. Just a few hours. If you start to feel bored, I will take you back to the motel straightaway."

She sighed. "Fine but I don't want to stay for too long."

"Deal." She could hear the triumph in his voice. "I will pick you up at seven tomorrow night."


	4. Chapter 4

When Elena and Stefan had walked into the reception together shortly after seven-thirty the following evening, they had caused any number of heads to swivel and jaws to drop. A ripple of murmurs had spread through the crowd. An amazing number of people had found an excuse to cross the room to greet them and make conversation.

Stefan recognized a lot of faces. He knew that the majority of these people had been around long enough to be familiar with the murder of Katherine Pierce fifteen years ago. In addition, the entire town was no doubt aware of the return of Katherine's sister.

The moment she arrived, Elena was glad she had come. She might not like being the highlight of the evening but something beneficial might come out of the evening. She would have an opportunity to mingle with locals, people who knew the Salvatore brothers and Klaus well and might shed light on their characters.

"This is nice, isn't it?" Stefan asked, drawing Elena closer to him. Stefan had led her into a slow, effortless dance after they had mingled with the crowd for half an hour or so.

"Yes, very," she said. Elena let him hold her close because it felt good to have two strong arms around her. Her partner was handsome and charming and knew how to make a woman feel beautiful. It would definitely help to take her mind off Damon.

"I thought I saw Klaus. The Mikaelson family doesn't belong to the Founding Families, do they?" she asked casually.

"No but the Mikaelson family is one of the richest families in Mystic Falls. Very powerful and influencing apart from the Lockwood family. They turn up to most of the events in Mystic Falls."

"Okay. Who are the two women over there?"

"Hayley Marshall-Kenner and Esther Mikaelson."

"Esther Mikaelson? Klaus's mother?"

Stefan nodded. "That's right."

"Who's Hayley?"

"Klaus's fiancée."

Elena glanced at the sexy gorgeous woman with light olive skin, hazel green eyes, and dark brown hair dressed in a dark green dress. "When did Klaus get engaged?"

"Last year." Stefan looked at her. "Why? Don't tell me you are interested in Klaus."

She shot him a look. "My interest in him isn't romantic."

"Okay. I get it."

Damon stood with Klaus Mikaelson at the edge of the crowd and watched Elena dance with Stefan who appeared to be enjoying himself.

Klaus munched a cracker slathered in cream cheese and smoked salmon. "Quite a good turnout tonight."

"Yes, almost everyone in Mystic Falls is here."

"Yeah." Klaus eyed Stefan and Elena with an assessing gaze. "I didn't expect Stefan to show up with Elena."

"Not my problem." Damon picked up a feathered toothpick that had an olive, a bit of cheese, and a mushroom impaled on it. He put the tiny skewer in his mouth and removed the edible portions with his teeth.

Klaus shot him a curious look. "Don't you want to know what's up with Stefan and Elena?"

Very deliberately, Damon turned to look at him. He said nothing.

Klaus grimaced and put up a hand, palm out. "Sorry. Can't help the curiosity. I can't help it because she is Katherine's sister, remember?"

"Yeah," Damon said, "I remember."

"I heard she went to see you in the police department. Two of you were spotted at the Grill having morning tea."

Damon remained silence as swirled the wine in his glass. He turned back to his survey of the crowd.

Klaus grunted. "She does resemble Katherine, doesn't she?"

"You are engaged, Klaus," Damon said dryly.

"I got over Katherine long time ago. I don't pine for a woman who's been dead all these years." He glanced at Damon. "I'm not you, Damon."

Damon's jaw tightened. "I don't pine," he countered. "Not anymore."

Klaus sighed. "Do you think Stefan ever got over Katherine?"

"I guess so. Stefan has made his life count for something. He's got a career."

"But he is still not married. Just like you."

Damon glared at him.

"Okay. I get the message. No more questions of a personal nature about you. But speaking as an old friend, I think it's time for you to settle down and get married. You aren't young anymore."

"I'm not that old," Damon shot back.

"Old enough," Klaus chuckled.

Damon rolled his eyes and he spotted Elena coming toward him through the crowd. The sight of her sparked a thrill of intense awareness deep in his gut. She looked great, he thought. The snug-fitting little black stretch black lace she was wearing underscored a whole lot of her best assets, including the neatly curved breast, slim waist, and full hips. Her hair was swung in a fishtail braid. Her legs were incredibly sexy in a pair of black high heels.

The most exciting and attractive woman in the room, no doubt about it. At least so far as he was concerned.

He watched her weave her way toward him. She came to a halt in front of him and Klaus.

"Hello, Mr Mikaelson," she said. "We meet again."

"Hello, Miss Gilbert." Klaus said. "You came with Stefan, didn't you?"

"Stefan was hospitable enough to invite me." Elena slanted a quick glance at Damon. "Hello, Sergeant Salvatore."

"I'm surprised you still have time for a social event, Counsellor."

Damon's cool, catty remark momentarily stifled the conversation.

She smiled. "It's actually good to mingle with the locals. Especially I have lots to learn about the town and the people here."

"Sure." Klaus reached for another canapé and another topic of conversation. "Have you been around Mystic Falls yet? There are a few places worth visiting while you are here."

"I don't think our Counsellor is here for sight-seeing," Damon said coldly and turned his gaze to Elena. "Am I right?

"Hello boys."

Elena turned around and saw Esther and Hayley walking towards them.

"I'm glad to see you, Damon." Esther smiled warmly.

"I'm delighted to see you as well, Esther," Damon murmured. "Hello Hayley."

"Allow me to introduce Elena Gilbert," Klaus said. "Miss Gilbert, meet my mother Esther and my fiancée, Hayley."

Hayley turned and faced Elena. "Elena Gilbert? You are Katherine's sister?"

"Do you know my sister?"

Hayley shook her head. "No, I only came to Mystic Falls a few years ago. But I have heard about your investigation."

Esther looked directly at Elena. "Well, Miss Gilbert, what a pleasure to meet you. I have heard about the trouble you have created since your arrival in Mystic Falls."

Anger roiled inside, but Elena managed to keep her voice low and level. "I'm not here to create trouble. I'm here to investigate my sister's death."

"The case was closed fifteen years ago and the killer had been caught. What's there to investigate?" Esther's eyes never left Elena.

"No," she answered, firmly shaking her head. "My sister was murdered. I don't believe that the man accused of it was capable of committing that crime. I want to know what really happened. I will know what happened."

Esther made a scoffing sound. "You are accusing the judge involved in the trial of making a serious error in judgement, aren't you?

To deny that would be a lie. "Yes, I believe Judge Tanner made a bad judgment in the case of Gregor Bradley."

"You are a lot like your sister, you know."

"Am I?" Elena clenched her fists.

"You enjoy causing dissonance. Your sister was never content to leave bothersome things alone. The only difference is that you are even better at making trouble and creating ill will than she was," Esther stated coldly.

"I take it you didn't like my sister very much," Elena remarked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Esther took her seriously. "Yes, I didn't like her."

"Let's dance." Before Elena could say further, Damon had scooped her into a bearlike embrace and hustled her away.

"Let go of me! Damon, let go of me," she said as she struggled to get out of his embrace.

"Not a chance." He tightened his arms around her. "You are making a scene. And I'm not allowing that to happen."

Eyes narrowed, she hissed a warning, "Damon…"

He tightened his grip and brought her up hard against him. "Do you have any idea the damage you're doing?"

She abruptly ceased struggling. "To whom?"

His face moved down very near to hers. "You are dredging up the past. You are going to piss off a hell lot of people if you carry on with your investigation."

"Is this a threat, Sergeant?"

"For goodness sake! I worry about you, Elena!" he cried out.

She stared at him, momentarily speechless.

"You," she managed at last. "Worry about me?"

"You know what? You are just like your sister. You drive me nuts." His voice was low and husky.

She went very still. "I drive you nuts?"

"Yes, you do," he said softly and stroke her back lightly. Elena caught her breath. "But you are worse than Katherine. You are strong-willed, arrogant, independent, and downright bullheaded at times."

"I'm not bullheaded…" she argued.

"Shush." He covered her mouth with his fingertips. "No talking. Just dance, okay?"

She swallowed hard. They began to move, very slowly, to the very slow music.

He might as well have been making love to her, she thought. The effect was the same. It felt like things were melting down below. Unable to resist the temptation, she put her head cautiously on his shoulder. His arms tightened very deliberately around her. His thumb touched the base of her spine.

She cleared her throat. "I thought you didn't like me."

He put his mouth against her temple. "Not much, no."

Gloom settled on her, darker than fog. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

They danced for another moment or two. Then he steered her to one of the French doors that led out onto a terrace.

Esther took a sip of her wine. "Elena Gilbert is just like her sister, isn't she? Never lack for male companionship."

"Mother, I know you didn't like Katherine. But don't you think you were kind of rude just now?' Klaus said.

"You boys were blind to the truth whenever Katherine was involved."

"What's the truth?" Hayley asked curiously but kept quiet immediately as Klaus shot her a look.

"That Katherine was wrong for all three of you. She was toying with you boys all these years." Klaus winced but Esther continued, "She was poison."

Klaus took a sip of his wine but said nothing. Esther turned her attention back to the dance floor.

"Well, well, well." Esther smirked. "Looks like Damon still can't see beyond the pretty face and body."

Glumly, Klaus studied Elena and Damon on the dance floor. The dance looked more than serious, he thought. It had a close, intimate quality. Damon held her to him with fingers spread out wide on her back. Klaus recognized the body language and knew that every other man in the room understood it too, if only on a subconscious level. It was a clear statement of possession, a this-woman-is-mine-tonight message.

He stared, fascinated at Elena Gilbert. No doubt about it, Klaus thought, she bore an uncanny resemblance to Katherine Pierce, the woman who had blazed through their lives all those years ago, singed them both badly and turned their world upside down before she was killed.

"The Salvatore brothers do have a tendency to fall for the wrong woman, don't they?" Esther said.

"This could get complicated," he said.

"Sure could." Esther observed. "I have a feeling I don't like what's going to happen."

"Neither do I," Klaus said very quietly.

Outside the town hall was dark. Only the banquet hall where the Founders' Party and Heritage Display was being held was lit. Elena followed Damon's lead, never pausing to examine why she did so without any hesitation.

She wanted to say something to break the silence, but couldn't bring herself to utter a single word. Then he brought her to a halt near an oak tree.

"Why? Why do you care?" His voice roughened a little. Getting dangerous. "Why do you care when I said I didn't like you? Why?"

She swallowed. "It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" She bit her lower lip. "You had clearly said it just now. You didn't like me."

He tilted her chin up and smirked. "I may like you a little."

His mouth covered hers in an electrifyingly seductive kiss that sent sparks exploding through Elena's entire body. He kissed her, long and hard and deep; so deep that she forgot everything else.

She had been kissed before, but no one had ever kissed her with Damon Salvatore's unhurried thoroughness. His hands shifted, one of them drifting down her spine to draw her closer, while the other slid behind her nape, and his mouth slowly opened on hers. Lost in the kiss, she moved her hands inside his jacket, up his chest, over his broad shoulders, and then she wrapped her arms around his neck.

This was crazy. She had met Damon only for a few days. She still didn't quite trust him. Yet she arched into him, cursing the layers of shirt and jacket and trouser that separated them. Within seconds, pleasure spiralled into greed. Within moments, greed galloped into hunger.

A life time later, one of them – she couldn't say who – ended the shattering kiss. Her heart hammering under her dress. She felt as if every ounce of blood in her body were concentrated in her earlobes and her body was radiating heat like a stove. Her breasts were heaving in an effort to fill oxygen-starved lungs.

"Come on. It's getting late. I will take you back." Damon's voice sounded stiff and prim.

She drew a deep, steadying breath. "I…I can go back by myself."

"No, I will take you back. Come on," he grabbed her wrist and walked her to a Camaro parked along the street.

Without speaking, he unlocked the door and held it for her. She got inside the passenger seat without objection.

They drove to her motel in complete silence. He didn't turn off the Camaro's engine, but let it idle.

"Damon…"

"Good night, Elena."

She cleared her throat. "Damon, about tonight…"

Damon looked at her, eyes gleaming. "We kissed. I kissed you and you kissed me back."

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "No, what I'm trying to say…"

He studied her for a long, brooding moment. "Second thoughts already?" he finally asked.

She looked at him for a long time. "No. No, of course not." She rubbed her brow. "I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything," he said simply.

"Damon…"

"It's late. Go to sleep," he said softly.

She got out and ran into her motel room, slammed the door and locked it. Her hands covered her face as she leaned against the door, breathing hard and grappling with her conscience. She had let Damon kiss her. She had wanted to go on kissing him. And he was one of the three suspects who had killed her sister.

x x x

Elena turned off the faucets and squeezed the water from her hair, then stepped from the shower and reached for a towel. The mirror above the sink was foggy, but she could still see a ghostly reflection of herself. Her eyes, however, seemed sharp-focussed with reproach.

To escape that self-incrimination, she buried her face in the towel. But the attempt to hide her shame, even from herself, was futile. Would she ever be able to look at herself in the mirror again?

Yes, she would. She must. She still had to continue her investigation.

She dried quickly and put on a pair of pyjamas. She poured herself a glass of water and carried it to her bed. Settling onto her bed, she picked up the phone and called Wes Maxfield.

Wes answered on the first ring.

"How's Mystic Falls?"

"I'm getting there," she said quietly. "I need more time, Wes."

"No extension, Elena. You only have thirty days. Thirty days to come up with something. Otherwise the case can't be reopened."

"But Wes…"

"No, Elena," Wes said firmly. "You need to come up with concrete evidence. I had told you before you left the office."

"I need more time to do some digging," Elena pleaded to Wes. "I have identified some suspects. If you give me more time I'm sure I can find something…"

"Listen to me, Elena," Wes interrupted. "I understand you want to carry on with the investigation. But if you can't produce something soon, you need to drop it."

Elena didn't argue with him. Instead, she calmly said, "All right. I will resign from the office and do it on my own."

"Jesus, you are stubborn."

"She was my sister. I can't forget about how she was killed. I want justice."

Silence hummed briefly on the other end.

"I know it's hard for you, Elena." Wes gave a sad sigh. "I shouldn't be doing this. But what the hell? What have you found so far, Gilbert?"

She clutched the phone more tightly. "Are you giving me more time?"

"It depends what have you've got so far, Gilbert."

"I met the three men who were very close to my sister."

"And?"

"They seemed to adore my sister very much." She paused. "Both Salvatore brothers were in love with her. Katherine wanted to marry Damon at one stage but things changed."

"What happened?"

"Damon said her priority had changed somehow. She wanted to get out of Mystic Falls. Be someone. She had dreams. Big ones."

"How was she going to do that?"

Elena pursed her lips, thinking. "I'm not sure, to tell you the truth. I was only ten when she turned up at my house. I was too young to know what was going on in her life at that time."

"Do you think she had some cash stashed away?"

"The Pierce's family is not very wealthy but I guess she could still get her hand on some money."

"Could it be one of her boyfriends had given some cash to her? Or maybe someone gave her a piece of fancy jewellery she thought she could sell."

Elena took a breath. "We're making some huge assumptions here."

"Let's get this straight, Elena," Wes said. "What was the motive behind this? Why did Gregor Bradley kill your sister? He is mentally retarded. What triggered him to kill your sister? Did your sister do something?"

"I don't believe Katherine would be mean to someone like Gregor Bradley," she said without hesitation. "Unfortunately I couldn't speak to him. Nobody can understand him."

"What happened to the judge of the trial?"

She sighed. "According to the mayor, Judge Tanner had retired and left the country five years ago."

"Another dead end."

There was another brief pause.

"Katherine was found in the woods the next morning after the Back to School Party." Elena said.

"What's the Back to School Party?"

"The Back to School Party is an annual bonfire where students from Mystic Falls High School gather together to celebrate the beginning of the new school year." Elena paused. "But nobody had seen Katherine at the bonfire. It doesn't make sense. Why would she go out to the woods alone?

"To meet a man?" Wes suggested gently.

"The man who could take her out of Mystic Falls," Elena said slowly. "But why the woods?"

"Maybe she didn't want to be seen with whoever she met there," Wes said bluntly.

Elena sucked in a deep breath. "I think I need to talk to Klaus."

"Klaus?"

"Yes, Klaus Mikaelson. He was one of the three men close to my sister."

"Are you talking about Mikael and Esther Mikaelson's son Klaus?" Wes asked.

"Yes."

"The Mikaelson family is the most powerful and one of the richest families in Mystic Falls," Wes muttered. "This is not looking good. I don't like this."

Elena's mouth went dry. A shiver went through her. She had a feeling that she would not like what she was going to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mr Mikaelson, Miss Gilbert is here," the blonde announced.

"Perfect. Thanks, Jules."

Klaus rose from his chair. He made his way around his massive desk and slowly walked towards Elena.

"Miss Gilbert." His hand came toward her. His hand was clammy and slightly shaky as he squeezed hers firmly.

He was nervous, Elena thought. "Are you okay, Mr Mikaelson?" she asked. She noticed notice a single frown line across his forehead.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Fine. Call me Klaus." He retracted his hand and nodded towards two brown leather couches, positioned opposite each other in the bay window, with a large coffee table sitting between them. "Please, take a seat. Can I get you a drink?" He dragged his gaze from hers, walking towards a cabinet with various bottles of liquor lined up on top.

Surely he didn't mean alcohol, Elena thought. It was only early afternoon. It was too early to have alcohol. She was certain her presence was making Klaus nervous. She watched as he hovered at the cabinet for a few moments before turning to face her again, looking at her expectantly.

"No, thank you." She shook her head as she spoke.

"Water?" he asked.

"Please." She smiled.

He collected two bottles of water from the integrated fridge and turned back towards her. When he strolled back over, he placed the water bottles on the table. He sat down on the sofa opposite and crossed one leg over the other, his ankle resting on his thigh.

"I guess you should tell me why you are here," he asked.

"I thought you have guessed why I'm here." Elena looked back at him.

"Ah, Katherine," he said quietly.

"I wanted to know about your relationship with my sister," she pressed.

"We were friends," he said simply. "I was four years older than her but we still managed to become friends."

"Just friends?" Her eyes narrowed.

"We were close," he said softly as he uncrossed his leg. "We were close friends."

She held her breath. "Did you sleep with Katherine?"

Klaus looked away from her and peered into the middle distance. Looking into the past. When he and Katherine made love for the first time and he had realized she had given him her most sacred gift, he was overwhelmed. "I loved her. I loved Katherine. I didn't kill her."

"You slept with her, didn't you?" She already knew the answer but she wanted to hear him said it.

"I remember it was Katherine's eighteen birthday. We had way too much to drink that night," he said quietly, still avoiding eye contacts. "Katherine was very upset. I wanted to make her happy again. So we went to this bar out of town…"

Elena's jaw clenched visibly. "Did you take advantage of her?"

He jerked his head back to face her. "No! Of course not! I would never hurt Katherine."

"And what happened?"

"Katherine didn't want anyone to know about us." He gave a sad sigh. "I promised her I would never tell anyone."

"So Stefan and Damon didn't know?"

Klaus shook his head. "They are like my brothers. I wouldn't do anything to hurt them both."

"Katherine's birthday was in June."

"Fifth of June," Klaus answered.

"She died on eight of September," Elena said. What happened between June and September that year? "Did you know Katherine wanted to marry Damon?" she asked cautiously.

"I know." There was sadness in his eyes. "Katherine had a huge crush on Damon since she was a child. I was clinging to the vain hope that my relationship with her would develop into something deeper after we slept together."

A spark of suspicion leaped into Elena's eyes. "But it didn't, did it? And you killed her because she didn't want you?"

"No!" His brows drew together. "I loved her. I loved your sister. I wanted to marry her but she said we were still young. She had her dreams. She wanted more time."

"Where were you that night?"

"My father wanted me to accompany him to a business trip in Richmond. I was away that whole week. I just graduated and my father reckoned it was a good learning experience."

Would he lie over something so easily checked? "You didn't see Katherine for the whole week."

"No," Klaus said sadly. "She was acting strange."

"Acting strange?"

"Nobody knew about Katherine and me. A week before I left for Richmond, Katherine was dodging my calls. She was avoiding me. I knew it," he said bitterly. "I knew I would always be her second choice."

"Did she end her relationship with you?"

Klaus shook his head. "Maybe she didn't want to hurt my feelings. We had been friends for a very long time. Maybe she thought I would give up eventually if she stopped seeing me."

"You said Katherine was upset on her eighteen birthday? Why was she upset?"

"She had an argument with Damon."

"Why did she argue with Damon?"

"Katherine was upset with Damon because he didn't give a damn of his future. Your sister believed Damon could be very successful."

There was a soft knock on the door before Elena could ask more questions. "Yes?"

Esther Mikaelson strolled in.

"Mother?" Klaus looked surprised to see his mother.

"Jules said you weren't to be disturbed, but when she told me who was with you, I convinced her that I should be here."

Esther sauntered to the sofa next to hers and dropped into it. Her eyes moved over Elena critically "I guess Miss Gilbert is here asking questions about Katherine."

Elena raised her chin up high. "Yes, I'm."

"If you want to interrogate Klaus, Counsellor, you will have to subpoena him to appear before the grand jury."

"Mother…"

Esther gave a negligent wave of her hand. "It's the truth. Surely our Counsellor here knows the law much better than we do."

Elena was tempted to get up and walk out. The only thing that kept her sitting there was the hope that Esther would inadvertently impart some scrap of valuable information.

"So, Mrs Mikaelson, how much do you know about my sister and her relationships with Stefan, Damon and Klaus?"

"They were like a unit," she said, lapsing into a faint, reflective voice, and Elena realized that she had slipped into her own private world. "A little club unto themselves. You rarely saw one without seeing the other three."

Klaus smiled at Esther's words. "Yes, we were always a foursome."

"But I didn't want my son to get so deeply involved with them," Esther was saying. "Especially Katherine."

"Mother, please don't do this," Klaus pleaded.

"It's okay, Klaus. I'm intrigued to find out what Mrs Mikaelson has to say about Katherine," Elena said bluntly.

"I didn't realise you two are already on a first-name basis." Suddenly, Esther's eyes focused sharply on her guest. "I want you to stay away from my son."

Klaus gasped. "Mother, that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."

"Why?" Elena asked.

Esther ignored him and her eyes narrowed with malice. "Because I have a sick feeling that he will fall in love with you just like he did with your sister."

Klaus's mouth dropped. He stared at his mother, completely speechless.

"You are wrong," Elena answered.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll see to it that he does. Stefan and Damon, too, probably. That was what your sister did, wasn't she?"

"No!" Elena cried out.

"Whatever a man needed or wanted Katherine to be at the moment," Esther continued, "she was. Katherine was an unconscionable flirt. Every man she met fell in love with her. She made certain of it. She would do anything to guarantee it."

Enough was enough. "I won't let you disparage a woman who's not around to defend herself. It's ugly and cruel of you, Mrs. Mikaelson." The office now seemed suffocating. Elena had to get out. "I'm leaving."

"I will see you out." Klaus stood up when Elena did.

"I'm sure Miss Gilbert can find her way out," Esther leaned back onto the sofa. "You are a busy man, Klaus."

"Mrs Mikaelson is right. I can find my way out." Elena turned away from him and walked out of the office.

Klaus spun around. "Mother, how could you? How could you hurt Elena that way?"

"Because she needed to know who was the real Katherine Pierce. The sister she is looking for didn't exist in Katherine. She was devious."

"Dammit!" Klaus cursed. "This isn't what I have expected."

x x x

Later in that evening, the hood of her rain cloak pulled low over her face, Elena walked quickly through the misty rain toward the supermarket in the town centre of Mystic Falls. Her thoughts were on the conversation with Klaus and Esther Mikaelson. She did not see the woman until she stepped right into her path.

"You are Elena Gilbert, aren't you?" she said fiercely.

The anger in her voice made her mouth go dry. She came to a halt in the middle of the busy sidewalk, fervently grateful for the fact that she was surrounded by a large number of people.

The woman looming in front of her was a beautiful lady with long, brown wavy hair and green eyes. She wasn't tall but her expression didn't seem friendly.

"Do I know you?" Elena asked cautiously.

"No." The woman's jaw jerked. "But I know you, lady. You are Katherine's sister, aren't you?"

Elena clutched her rain cloak tightly. "Do you know my sister?"

"Of course I know Katherine." She looked disgusted. "We were studied in Mystic Falls High School."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Vicki Donovan." She moved in closer. "You are a trouble maker, aren't you? Just like your sister."

"I'm not here to cause any trouble. I'm here to investigate my sister' death."

"I can tell you all the girls in town were glad when Katherine died fifteen years ago," Vicki sneered.

Ice touched Elena's spine. "What did Katherine do? How did you hate her so much?"

"You have no idea how your sister made my life miserable. In fact, she made every girl in school miserable. She was pretty, in a lush, flamboyant. Much like you." Vicki took another step toward her, her face clenching with anger. "But the truth was Katherine Pierce was a selfish, manipulative little bitch."

Up to this point, Elena had carefully controlled her tongue. But since this woman in front of her was maligning her late sister, she dismissed her manners. "I take exception to that slanderous remark, Miss Donovan."

Vicki scowled furiously. "She flirted with every man she met. Heaven knows how many men she had led on."

"You were jealous of her," Elena shot back.

"I was not jealous of her." Vicki's voice got louder. "I felt sorry for all the men who fell for her charm. The Salvatore brothers and Klaus were silly and naïve to fall in love with her. Katherine was incapable of loving except herself. She was absolutely wrong for them."

"I think you have said enough, Vicki."

Elena, her face hot with indignation over Vicki Donovan's criticism, turned around. Damon stood on the busy sidewalk. Dressed in a black leather coat, black pants, a black shirt and black boots, he certainly stood out there in the busy streets of Mystic Falls.

"Damon." A sweet smile broke across Vicki's face. One would never guess she had had her stinger out seconds earlier. "How are you?"

Damon moved towards them. "I think it's time for you to go home, Vicki. The rain will hit any time."

"Right. Goodbye, Damon." Vicki glared at Elena before she moved away.

"You okay?" Damon asked.

Elena's attempts to compose herself after Vicki's departure had been in vain. She laughed shortly, bitterly. "You have no idea how my day has been, Sergeant. I have always thought Katherine was perfect but what information have I gathered since I have arrived?" She sniffed and batted her eyes in an effort to keep the tears from falling. "My sister was a flirtatious bitch."

"Elena, stop this."

"Was it true, Damon?" she asked softly. "Was Katherine so flirtatious?"

He grabbed her upper arm. "Come with me."

He hustled her into the blue Camaro. She laid her head against the cold passenger window, feeling like she had just sustained a beating with a chain and was due to enter the ring for round two.

"You haven't answered my question," Elena said.

"Is it important?" Damon asked.

"I don't know." She turned her shoulders toward him and rested the back of her head on the window. "You tell me. Is it?"

"No matter what had happened she was still your sister. Blood is thicker than water. Family always stick together."

Elena liked Damon very much at that moment. His attitude toward family bonding touched her deeply.

"I know why Katherine wanted to marry you," she said softly.

Her statement surprised him. "Why?"

"Because you are nice."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. She smiled and settled deeper into the seat and looked out the window.

Ten minutes later, Damon walked with her to the door of the Salvatore boarding house.

He cleared his throat. "I have got plenty of food in the house. Stefan is working night shift this week, so he won't be around. I bought fresh asparagus and some salmon fillets this afternoon if you are keen to stay for dinner."

Her eyes widened. "You planned to invite me for dinner at your place?"

"To be honest, it struck me that it would be more comfortable to eat at my place rather than in front of an audience composed of a lot of the good and extremely curious people of Mystic Falls."

She smiled slowly. "Fresh asparagus and salmon sound great."

The atmosphere was making him very uneasy, but for the life of him, Damon could not figure out what was wrong. On the surface, everything was perfect.

Dinner had gone smoothly. He had taken charge of the salmon while Elena had dealt with the asparagus and sliced some crusty bread. They had sipped from two glasses of chardonnay while they worked together in his snug, cosy kitchen. They had talked easily, for all the world as comfortable as two people who had prepared a meal together countless times. But they had avoided mentioning Katherine.

It was almost as if they had already become lovers, Damon thought. A deep sense of intimacy enveloped them and it was starting to worry him. This was a far different sensation than he had known with other women in the past. It was not the pleasant, superficial sexual awareness he had experienced on previous, similar occasions. He did not understand the prowling tension that was starting to leave claw marks on his insides.

Elena stood at the sink in his gleaming, white-tiled kitchen and washed the pan that had been used to steam the asparagus. Nearby, Damon, a striped towel draped over his left shoulder, stacked dishes in a cupboard.

He couldn't stop himself from staring at Elena the whole evening. She was absolutely gorgeous. Damn.

He closed the cupboard door and reached for the coffeepot. "Coffee? Cream or sugar?"

"Cream but no sugar."

He poured coffee into two cups and led the way into the living room. Elena dried her hands, slung the damp towel over a rack, and followed him.

She sat down on the sofa, mug gracefully cupped in her hands. The fire he had built earlier crackled on the hearth.

She smiled at him and he immediately felt every nerve and muscle in his body shift from Yellow Alert status to Code Red. An almost irresistible urge swept over him to pick her up off the sofa, carry her into his bedroom upstairs, and put her down on his bed. He flexed one hand deliberately to regain control.

It had been like this all evening, as though he were walking the edge of a cliff in a violent storm. One false step and he would go over into very deep water. It didn't help that outside the rain and the wind had struck land with a vengeance some forty minutes ago.

He crossed the living room to the stone fireplace, picked up an iron poker, and prodded the fire. The blaze didn't need prodding, but it gave him something to do with his hands.

"Dinner was lovely," she said. "Thank you."

"I'm glad you liked the salmon." He put aside the poker, straightened, and glanced at the bookshelf.

"You have a nice home."

"Thank you."

Elena glanced around the house. The bookends looked expensive, she thought. Dolphins playing in the surf. One-of-a-kind pieces of art glass, not cheap, utilitarian bookends picked up at a rummage sale. There were other quietly expensive touches in the house. An exotically patterned carpet done in shades of muted greens and gold covered most of the hardwood floor in front of the leather sofa. The coffee table was a heavy sheet of green glass that rippled and flowed like a wave of clear lava. A couple of framed abstract paintings hung on the walls.

"Tell me," she said, "was it difficult to make the decision to leave the family business when you decided to join the police department?"

"Making the decision was easy." He sat down on the sofa and reached for his coffee mug. "Getting out of the family business was a little more difficult."

"I'll bet it was. You were the firstborn and the eldest son."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I'm a Salvatore."

She gave him a fleeting smile. "There must have been a lot of pressure on you to take over the helm after your father retired."

"My uncle Zach was very understanding and supportive." He took a swallow of coffee and slowly lowered the mug. "But my father went nuts."

"I believe it. It's a family business."

He wrapped both hands around the mug. "Uncle Zach tried to shield me from the worst of the blast but no one could have suppressed that explosion. My father and I went a few rounds before he finally realized that I wasn't going to back down and change my mind."

"It must have been a difficult time."

"Yeah." He took another sip of coffee. "But we got through it."

"It's a tribute to the strength of your family bonds."

"Uh-huh."

"Why did you choose to become a police officer?"

He raised one shoulder in a tiny shrug. "Why not? It's challenging."

"Did you choose to become a cop because of Katherine's death?"

Frowning, he placed the mug on the coffee table. "My career has nothing to do with Katherine."

"But you loved her." He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "She wanted you to be something, be someone."

"I lead my own life. I don't need anyone telling me what to do with my life. Not my father, not Stefan, not Katherine."

After a lengthy pause, very softly, Elena asked, "Did you want to marry my sister?"

He averted his head for a second, then said. "At that time, yes."

She bit her bottom lip. For some unknown reasons, she didn't like his answer.

"Then things changed." He stared directly at her. "If you ask me the same question again now, my answer is no."

Her pulse raced. Not fear, she thought.

"Do you ever wonder how things might have worked out for Katherine and you if she was still alive?" she asked in a pensive voice.

"'Never look back' is my motto."

"You have never married."

"Been busy for the past few years."

"I guess so."

"Since you mention about relationship, how's your love life, Counsellor?" His eyes never left her. "You went as Stefan's date for the Founders' Party and Heritage Display the other night."

"It wasn't a date. Stefan was nice enough to invite me to attend the event." She sipped her coffee.

He looked at her. "Mind if I ask if there's anything serious in that direction?"

She pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly. Thinking. "I would describe my relationship with Stefan as friendly."

"Friendly." What the hell did friendly mean?

"We could be friends, maybe, once this investigation is resolved."

He nodded once. "Right. Once this investigation is resolved."

She gave him polite concern. "Is there a problem here?"

"You tell me." He put his mug down with great care. "Is Stefan going to have a problem with you and me having dinner tonight?"

"I doubt it." She looked surprised by the question. "But if he says anything, I will explain the situation to him."

"How, exactly, do you intend to explain it?"

"I will tell him that we're just friends. He will understand."

"Just friends," he repeated neutrally.

"What else?" She put down her own mug and looked pointedly at the clock. "Good heavens, it's getting late, isn't it? I should go back to my motel."

He uncoiled from the depths of the sagging sofa. "I will drive you back to your motel."

He didn't have to sound quite so eager to get rid of her, she thought. But it was probably for the best.

"Thanks." She rose quickly, a sense of urgency pulsing through her.

She had left it too long, she thought. It was past time to leave. She was not sure when or how it had happened but she was suddenly, intensely aware of the heavy blanket of sensual awareness that enveloped her. It had settled around her slowly and lightly over the course of the evening, the warm, thick folds practically weightless until now.

She wondered if Damon felt anything at all. If he did, he was doing a terrific job of concealing it.

He was already at the door, her rain cloak in his hand. Obviously she was the only one who could feel the energy of the storm gathering here inside this room.

The smartest thing she could do tonight was leave right now and go straight home to her own bed.

She touched the back of the sofa briefly to steady herself, took a deep breath and walked deliberately toward him.

"Something you should understand before we go any further here," he said when she reached the place where he waited with her cloak.

"What's that?"

He took two steps towards her, closing the distance between them.

"Whatever else this turns out to be," he said evenly, "it isn't about being just friends."

She blinked. Her lips parted but no words emerged.

Just as well because he did not want to talk.

He kissed her, his hand still holding onto her cloak, leaning forward a little to claim her mouth. She did not flinch or step back but he felt the shiver that went through her.

He deepened the kiss deliberately.

Her mouth softened under his. He got the feeling that she was tasting him; testing him, maybe. Or was it herself she was testing?

She made a tiny, unbelievably sexy little sound and his blood ran hot in his veins. His breathing thickened.

He raised his head slowly. Breaking off the kiss required a serious act of willpower.

"Definitely not just friends," he said.

She opened her mouth. And closed it immediately when she realized she did not know what to say.

"Come on, let's go. You need to have a good sleep."


	6. Chapter 6

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Miss Gibbons."

"No trouble. I was free this afternoon. Come on in. Sit down." Samantha Gibbons removed a stack of trade journals from the seat of the straight, wooden chair, making it available for Elena. She sat behind a desk cluttered with mountains of paperwork. "Sorry for the mess. It's almost end of the semester. The students have submitted their assignments."

"I do understand."

"I wasn't all that surprised to hear from you," she remarked candidly.

"Why?"

"Richard Lockwood called and said you would probably get around to ask me some questions."

Elena had decided to utilize some time before exploring the woods where Katherine's body was found by questioning the teacher. When she'd phoned, Samantha Gibbons had readily agreed to see her.

"Are you familiar with the murder of Katherine Pierce?" she began, intentionally playing down her personal involvement.

"Sure am. The whole school was shocked. She was my student, a sweet girl."

"How long had she been your student?"

"She was in my literature class."

"How would you describe Katherine?"

"She was smart and showed a lot of interest in literature. She was one of the best students in the class."

"Did she ever talk to you about her career interest?"

"I did suggest to her to pursue a career in literature but she said she had other plans."

"Did she elaborate further?"

"No. I thought maybe she wanted to become an artist. You know, she was very outstanding in paintings."

"Did Katherine have friends in the school?" Elena thought about Vicki's comments the other day.

"She was a pretty girl and the girls in the class sometimes did get jealous because of her appearance and her brain. She was very close to Stefan. Do you know Stefan Salvatore? The Salvatore brothers treated her like sister."

Elena nodded. "What about Vicki Donovan?"

"Vicki was a problematic student." Samantha Gibbons shook her head. "But luckily she turned out fine despite not being able to go to college. Thanks to Damon Salvatore."

Everything inside Elena went still. She worked hard at keeping her expression impassive. "Damon Salvatore?"

"Yes. He recommended Vicki to work at his father's company after she finished high school. Heard she has done reasonably well so far."

"Were there any fights or arguments between Vicki and Katherine?"

She was taken aback. "No, no, no. Katherine was a sweet darling. She would never do such things. Plus the Salvatore brothers were very protective of her. They were like her knights."

"What about Klaus Mikaelson?"

"Klaus was a few years senior than Katherine but he was close to the Salvatore brothers. He was always seen with the boys."

"Did Katherine have any boyfriend in high school?"

"She was always seen together with the Salvatore brothers and Klaus. You must know how gossips can spread like wildfire."

"What were the gossips?"

Samantha Gibbons pursed her lips. "I don't think it is right to talk about the gossips…"

"Mrs Gibbons, I'm here to investigate Katherine's death. I need to know everything. You have to tell me everything you know," Elena said seriously.

There was a brief silence.

"Words got out that Katherine seduced Klaus and the Salvatore brothers. Stefan fell deeply in love with her, but unbeknownst to him, she had also been seeing his brother Damon and Klaus." Samantha Gibbons sighed. "The gossips were horrible."

She stood up to leave and extended the teacher her hand. Samantha Gibbons shook it, and she said good-bye.

"I'm sorry about Katherine. You lost your sister. It must be hard."

She gave her a fleeting smile. "Thank you."

"If she was still alive, I bet she would be living in Paris."

"Paris?"

"Yes, Paris. Katherine said she had plans to go to Paris one day."

x x x

The woods seemed ominously quiet. Elena wandered blindly through the darkened trees. Their shadows fell across the gravel path, their black fingers slipping over her like ghosts as she walked. The old, yellow and brown leaves hustled in the wind, as the sounds of dead, weak trees, creak at every push the wind gave. It was the end of fall and the air was colder than an ice cube, as it climbed through her jacket to the bottom of her spine. It was undeniably dark, she could no longer avoid the ruts and her ankle twisted painfully when she made a miss-step. The trees had become silhouettes, the air was colder and the gaiety of the woods had been replaced with a sense of isolation. Her heart pounded in a way that had nothing to do with the exertion of walking. Wandering around in the woods in the evening was not the smartest thing she had done.

Elena began walking faster, cursing her stupidity for coming here at this time of the day. She had done some pretty stupid things in her life, but endangering her safety had not been one of them – until now. Speeding up her retreat, she hurried past several trees lining the path. She stumbled and almost fell, but strong hands caught her just in time.

Struggling to free herself, she spun toward her captor. Even if the shadowed figure hadn't been as familiar to her as her own mirrored reflection, she would have known him simply by the hollow feeling that had invaded her stomach and the rapid pulsing of her heart in her temples at his touch.

Damon looked down at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Katherine was found dead here in the woods. I need to see this place." She looked pointedly at his hand, where it still rested on her shoulder. "How do you know I'm here? Are you following me?"

Damon released her and stepped back. "I went to your motel and the receptionist told me you were asking for directions to the woods. Are you crazy? Wandering in the woods at this hour? Something could happen to you."

"Well," she said, raising her arms out to either side of her so he could see she was unharmed. "As you can see, I'm fine. You can go now."

"Yes, I can see that." He grabbed her arm. "Let's go. We are leaving."

"Let go of me." She tried to pull her arm free.

His grip tightened. "Not a chance. It's getting dark. I'm not leaving you here."

"I can walk by myself. You're hurting my arm. Will you please let go?"

He released her immediately. "Where in the hell is your car?"

"Over there," she indicated the SUV parked under an oak tree at the edge of the woods.

When they reached her SUV, he leaned down and said, "Don't ever wander into the woods by yourself. Do you hear me?"

She blinked. "Now, Damon…"

He reached for her. He closed his hands around her shoulders and hauled her up against his chest. "Do you have any idea of the scare you gave me just now?"

"Scare?" She was intensely aware of the heat of his body so close to hers. "Why were you scared?"

"I was afraid that you might get lost in the woods or encountered a wild animal. You could have got yourself killed out there."

"Like Katherine."

"I wasn't thinking of Katherine," he said bluntly. "All I could think about was you."

"You are worried about me?" She pulled back slightly and looked at him with wide, fascinated eyes. "This is the second time I have heard you said you are worried about me."

"Yes, I'm worried about you. Don't you ever scare me like that again."

He covered her mouth with his own, letting the fierce tension that was eating him up inside pour into her. Elena eagerly welcomed his kiss. She knew what a delicious, tingling warmth it could spread through her body. She opened her mouth under the unhurried, seeking lips. Shyly she touched the tip of her tongue to his. A low groan issued from deep in his throat as his mouth became more urgent.

When they were both breathless, he pulled his mouth from hers. "We should get out of here before it is dark. I'm not that keen to encounter a wild animal."

"Oh, I thought you are tough!" She acted indignant, but she giggled.

"I can be tough. And rough as well. How rough can you take, Counsellor?" He stared at her from under hooded eyes, but the light radiating from them made his implication clear.

She was flustered, but refused to show it and tossed her head indifferently. He saw through her ruse and grinned broadly. "We better get going."

They rode in silence for as long as it took them to the main road. As he turned onto it, he said, "I'll drop you at your motel."

Letting her head fall back on the headrest, she asked quietly, "Did you know Katherine wanted to go to Paris?"

"No."

He answered without a second's hesitation. Elena was surprised.

She didn't quite believe him. "You were so close to her. How come you didn't know?"

"We kind of disagreed with each other. She had her own dreams and I wanted to lead my own life," he said with a shrug. "People changed."

"Did you change?" He shot her a hard look. "Or Katherine had changed?"

"Damn!"

Elena jumped and glanced at Damon. It took a second to register what was happening. But then she noted Damon's white knuckled death grip on the wheel, and his for repeatedly pumping the brake pedal. Worst of all, it registered that despite his efforts, the SUV continued to hurtle forward at breakneck speed.

The brakes weren't working!

Elena yanked her gaze from the driver and stared in horror out the windshield. The taillights of the car in front of them glowed red and they were closing in at an alarming speed.

Damon spun the steering wheel to avoid a rear-end collision and bumped onto the road's uneven shoulder. He yanked on the emergency brake. The car went into a slide.

"Hold on," he yelled.

The tires caught the edge of the pavement and the vehicle jerked sideways. The seat belt biting into her shoulder and chest kept Elena from being thrown into Damon's lap. Face grim and lips set in a tight line, Damon struggled to right the car.

Elena stared transfixed out the windshield. Looming right in the middle of their path stood a very large live oak tree. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Terror had choked off her vocal cords. She dug her nails into the soft upholstery of the seat.

Damon jerked the wheel the opposite way. Elena hit the side door hard. Pain shot up her arm. The seat belt cut deeper into her shoulder. Before she could react, the SUV thumped and bounced over the edge of the road, onto the median and into the southbound lane of traffic. Approaching car headlights blinded her. Tires squealed as oncoming motorists tried to avoid colliding with them.

Damon spun the wheel again. Elena held her breath. The SUV squeezed between two of the southbound cars. Brakes screeched again. Quickly, he straightened the wheel and the car headed toward the only place left for them to go – the row of white guardrail posts bordering the mountains.

Elena gripped the dashboard and planted her feet on the floorboards. She wanted to close her eyes, but an insane need to see what would happen kept them open. Damon managed to retain enough control of the direction of the car so that, rather than ploughing over the mountain, he used the guardrails to slow their momentum.

They sideswiped the guardrails for about ten feet. The eerie screech of metal scrapping across cement filled the air as the side of the SUV was torn open.

Their headlights bounced over the landscape and finally went out as the front fender was ripped free of the body. Glass shattered. Cars whizzed past them, zigzagging down the road in an effort to right themselves after veering to miss them. Finally, she felt the car begin to slow and eventually lumber to a stop.

The night went deafeningly silent. Time crept by on dragging feet. Elena sat stone still, afraid if she moved, she would fall apart. She was alive. They were alive. Relief stole the stiffness from her tense body. She turned to look at Damon. He was staring fixedly out the windshield, his hands still retaining their white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Elena laid her head back against the headrest and waited for her heartbeat to slow.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice shaky.

Unable to speak, Elena nodded.

"Are you sure you are okay?" he whispered urgently.

"Yes," she said, finally finding her voice. "My heart is racing and my hands are shaking, but otherwise everything seems to be working."

He took her hands in his, still them, then looked deep into her eyes. "I would never have let anything happen to you." He searched her face. "You know that, don't you?"

His declaration stunned her almost as much as the accident. "Yes." Her voice was weak and wispy and sounded far away. "I know." In her heart, she did. Damon would always protect her. But who, in the end, would protect her from Damon?

x x x

An hour later Damon removed the pan of steaming cocoa from the stove and glanced over his shoulder. With a blanket covering her shoulders, Elena sat on the chair at the kitchen table. She still looked shaken.

He hadn't entirely recovered from the roller coaster of emotions he had been through in the past hour either, he realized. Never in his life had he ever felt so helpless. To be speeding down the road at seventy miles per hour, hitting the brake pedal and finding out there were no brakes had been the worst feeling of his entire life. Even facing the muzzle of a gun hadn't been that bad. At least with the gun he had the chance of disarming the shooter. In the car he had been looking death in the face with no power to stop it.

"Drink this." He poured the cocoa into a mug and put it on the table.

Obediently she took a sip. "This is nice. Thanks."

"You are welcome." He sat down across from her. "Are you hungry?"

She shook her head and took another sip of the cocoa.

"How's your shoulder?" he asked.

"It hurts a little but it is not a big deal."

They lapsed into silence.

"You think this was an accident?" Elena finally asked. She looked at him with troubled eyes.

He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his trousers. "This was no accident, Elena. My boys had checked your SUV and they found a cleanly cut end of a brake line."

Elena felt a chill race up her spine. "Who would do that? Why would anyone do that?"

Damon looked at her for a very long moment. She knew what he was going to say before he said it, but she had to hear the words. "Someone didn't want you to investigate Katherine's death."

Even though she had expected it, Damon's confirmation filled her with dread. Then just as suddenly, her fear turned to frustrated anger. She sat forward quickly, flattening her palms on the table. "I'm right all along. Gregor Bradley did not kill Katherine."

"Someone is afraid that you might find out the truth."

"I will make sure I find out the truth." She shot to her feet. "I want justice for Katherine."

"Calm down, Elena." He was suddenly on his feet, too, although he had no recollection of getting out of his chair. "You nearly died an hour ago. You had been damned lucky to have gotten out alive."

Elena must have realised the same thing. "I know. You could have been…"

He raised hand stopped her words. "I wasn't. I'm okay and you are okay as well."

"Oh, my God," she breathed. Tears gathered her eyes. "I was so af-afraid."

He pulled her trembling body into his arms. "We are fine, Elena," he whispered against her hair. "We are fine." She nodded against his chest but continued to cling to him.

"Damon?" She burrowed her face in his neck.

"Hmm?"

"I thought I was never going to see you again and I couldn't think of a worse way to die."

Then her hands were on his cheeks, tilting his face down toward hers, her lips frantically seeking his. She threaded her fingers up through his hair and formed tight fists that nearly ripped his hair out by the roots. She kissed him and continued to kiss him between words that were choppy and unintelligible but had the ring of desperation.

His arms closed around her. His hand on her ass, he drew her up and into him. He angled his lips against hers. When he did, hers parted. Tongues touched, then his was filling her mouth, and, Jesus, he was lost. Inside his head a bell of warning was clanging louder than any fire alarm, but he didn't need it. She smelled good, she tasted good, her mouth was silky and hot and hungry, and it had been a long time since a woman had wanted him. With desperation.

He picked her up and carried her into the living room. The glowing embers of the fire cast an enchanted golden light on the scene. Her head spun a little and her feet left the earth. The next thing she knew, she was lying flat on her back on the rug in front of the hearth.

He followed her down onto the floor, sprawling across her, anchoring her beneath him with one heavy leg flung across hers, his weight pushing her into the thick wool. She continued to clutch handfuls of his hair, then his T-shirt, until her hands slid beneath it onto his back. Her nails dug into his skin. He broke the kiss long enough to pull his shirt over his head and fling it away, then went back to kissing her. They separated again only long enough for her to take off her clothes. When they came together this time, her breasts were pressed against his chest, and he heard himself growl with pleasure.

He moved his lips to one nipple and tugged. She gasped and sank her nails into the contoured muscles of his back.

Time became meaningless. The wild night flowed around them, closing them off from the outside world. When Damon found the tight, throbbing nub that was the epicenter of the small storm taking place inside her, he stroked lightly with fingers he had dampened in her own dew. At the same time he slid two more fingers just inside and probed gently.

Without warning, the gathering energy that had created such a delicious tension exploded. She barely had time to cry out in surprise before she tumbled headlong into a bottomless pool.

When she eventually surfaced, she was breathless and joyous with the pure pleasure of it all.

Damon looked bemused by her reaction. His mouth curved slightly. "You okay?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, indeed, I am very okay." She drew her fingertips slowly down his chest and belly until she could cup his heavy erection. "Never better. Yourself?"

He grinned slowly, a sexy, anticipatory smile that sent little sparkling shards of excitement through her.

"Going to be okay real soon," he promised.

He settled heavily between her thighs after he sheathed himself. In the firelight his face was tight and hard with the effort he was exerting to maintain his control. He used one hand to guide himself carefully into her.

He was larger than she had anticipated. In spite of the unbearable sense of urgency and readiness, she was startled by the tight, full feeling.

"Damon."

He paused midway.

"Don't you dare stop now." She grabbed his head in both hands, spearing her fingers into his hair, and lifted herself against him.

He plunged the rest of the way, filling her completely. When they were locked together he levered himself up on his elbows and looked down at her. His expression was one of desire and passion and other forces too strange and wondrous for her to label with words. But she knew the power of those driving, elemental waves of raw energy. She knew them in her heart and soul because they were sweeping through her, too.

Damon began to move, gliding cautiously at first. But when she tightened her legs around his waist, he made a hoarse, husky sound and drove himself into her in a series of fierce, swift thrusts that seemed beyond his control.

She felt the intensity of his climax in every muscle of his body, heard it in his guttural shout of satisfaction.

When he collapsed on top of her she could barely breathe. She stroked his back from shoulder to hip. He was slick with perspiration. He was giving off so much heat you'd have thought that he was in the grip of a raging fever.

All in all, she thought, it was a wonderful way to go.


	7. Chapter 7

When Elena woke up she realised she was no longer in the living room. She was lying in a sea of luxurious, white cotton. It smelled divine. It smelled like Damon – all fresh water and yummy. The duvet had been pulled up over her waist. Damon's arms were still wrapped around her upper chest, her hands resting on his forearms. The pungent scent of sex was in the air.

She scanned the room, looking for a clock. What time was it? She heard Damon's soft, level breathing in her ear. She was reluctant to move and wake him but she wanted to have a shower.

She set about gently peeling his arms away from her body. He moaned a few times in his sleep, and she smiled. She was surprised at her lack of regret. She had woken with no feelings of remorse or mortification, whatsoever. This man was dangerous, she realised that, but there was something about him that intrigued her.

Just when she thought she had made good progress, she felt his arms clamped around her like a vice, effectively immobilising her.

"Don't even think about it, lady." he growled, his voice raspy with sleep.

She gripped his forearms with her hands, trying to loosen his grip. "I want to have a shower."

"No."

"Damon..."

"I'm comfortable like this." He stated it as a fact, nudging her hand away with a flick of his forearm while maintaining his hold on her.

Elena flopped her head back against his shoulder in exasperation. His lips turned into her cheek, kissing it sweetly, his overnight stubble grazing her. It felt good, and she couldn't deny it felt really good.

Once she felt he had relaxed his grip slightly and was busy nuzzling her cheek, she made her move, but no sooner had she tensed her muscles to make her escape, she was flipped onto her back, her thighs parted and her wrists pinned on either side of her head. He looked down at her, his eyes bright and skipping with enjoyment. Oh yes, he was deeply satisfied with himself, and he looked bloody glorious, with his dishevelled hair and dark stubble.

He rubbed his nose over hers. "Sleep well?"

"Very."

He smiled. "Me too."

He watched her closely as he slowly dropped his face to hers, and when his lush lips finally brush over hers, she moaned, opening her mouth invitingly. She involuntarily trembled when he skimmed his tongue gently across her, taking his time, slowly seducing her mouth and pulling back every so often to kiss her lips gently before he resumed exploring.

He released her wrists and leisurely strokes down the side of her body with the tip of his index finger. It was enough to have Elena convulsing and rolling her hips as the pressure in her tummy spiralled down to her core.

His touch was addictive, he was addictive. She was totally addicted.

"I completely lose myself in you, lady." he mumbled against her lips. He pulled away, long enough to grab a condom to sheathe himself before he pushed slowly and purposely into her inch by perfect inch, sending her hands flying to his back and her eyes squeezing shut.

He remained motionless, letting her adjust around him, his back tensed, his breathing shallow. Elena knew it must be taking everything out of him to be so still.

"Look at me, Elena," he whispered.

Elena opened her eyes. His jaw was tense, his frown line deeper than usual, and his blue eyes were blazing. He slowly drew back bit by bit, and then he plunged straight back in to the deepest part of her – in and out, in and out.

"Hmmm," she moaned on a long exhale.

"I love sleepy sex with you," he breathed.

The deliberate, measured strokes were playing havoc with her self-control, and she was pushing her hips up to meet his penetrations, sending him deeper and her higher. The feeling was extraordinary.

His gaze locked onto her as he continued his measured dives in and out of her. Elena was on the edge. She wanted him to kiss her, but he seemed content with just looking at her. She wrapped her legs around his lower back and ran her hands up and down his arms in light, feathery strokes. On a slow withdraw, he paused, momentarily appearing to gather himself, his eyes probing hers.

"Enough of the sleepy sex," he murmured as he surged forward, thrashing her in the deepest recesses of her body, not giving her a moment to adjust.

He cried out and retreated before repeating the delectable move again and again, slowly withdrawing and striking hard. The pleasure washed over her like an aggressive storm, sending her mind into orbit. His drives were controlled and exact. Elena was reaching her limit. She fisted her hands in is hair, pulling his lips down to hers, running her tongue over his bottom lip and biting it lightly, letting it drag through her teeth as she pulled away. He pushed forward again, his face tense as he found her lips and kissed her passionately.

And with three more strikes, her mind went blank and fireworks start exploding in her head. Elena burst beneath him on a loud cry and Damon joined her in her pleasure as she reined in her shouts, and moaned, long and low. He collapsed on top of her, pushing his hips hard against hers. They both laid entangled, panting and struggling for breath.

"I don't know what to say," he whispered against her ear.

Elena was only just cognitive, still recovering from her orgasm, but she heard that loud and clear, and she was not quite sure what to make of it.

After a few minutes of silence, he roused reluctantly from the cocoon of warmth that enveloped them, levered himself up on his elbow, and looked down at her.

"I just want to know one thing," he said.

"Hmmm?"

"What are we doing?"

She raised her lashes halfway and looked confused. "What?"

"This."

She cleared her throat. "Do you want the scientific nomenclature, the polite phraseology, or will twenty-first century vernacular do?"

He frowned at her teasing. "I'm serious, Elena."

"Anything between us would be complicated, Damon."

He placed his finger beneath her chin and lifted it until she was looking at him. "I know why I'm sleeping with you. I want to know why you're sleeping with me."

She searched his face. "Is it that important to you?"

Anger stirred deep inside him, dissolving much of the warm afterglow that had enveloped him. "Hell, yes, it's important. You think I would be trying to get through a stupid conversation like this if the answer wasn't important?"

"Well, I will tell you one thing," she said. "I can't deny I'm physically attracted to you but…"

"Because of Katherine."

There was a brief silence. When she spoke again, her voice was low and steady. "We are messy, Damon."

He rolled onto his back, put one hand behind his head, and gazed moodily up at the dark ceiling. "I know."

What if they had met at a cocktail party last night? He wondered. There would have been no sparks, no heat, and they wouldn't be in bed together now? He didn't like it at all.

After another brief silence, she asked, "Did you and Katherine….."

"Sleep together?"

She rose partway off the bed and leaned over him. "Did you?"

"No."

"What?" Elena exclaimed. "You expect me to believe…"

"I don't give a rat's ass what you believe. It's the truth."

"But why? You loved her."

"Lots of reasons."

"You are going to tell me that you had an unselfish, noble reason," Elena said, tongue-in-cheek. "Right?"

"I had known Katherine since she was adopted by the Pierce family," he said without inflection. "I had liked her like the sister I have never had. When she told me she wanted to marry me on her sixteen birthday, I didn't take it seriously. I only felt something for her after Miss Mystic Falls Pageant the following year. But I also realised my brother Stefan and my best friend Klaus were also in love with her. Yes, I loved her but we were never in a relationship."

Elena's heart was thudding with gladness, disbelief and emotions that were too complex to examine. "You mean that you never…"

"No. We never."

She believed him. There was no mendacity in his expression. She studied his profile for a moment. The rocky path had led her to the cliff, and she was about to take the plunge.

"Damon, if Katherine hadn't died, would you want to be with her?"

He thought about that for a while. "No."

"Why? You loved her and she wanted to marry you."

"I could never be the man Katherine wanted to marry. I won't change who I am. I can't. Do you understand?"

She tilted her head slightly. "I understand."

They laid there quietly for a moment before she spoke again. "Can I use your shower?"

"No," he said. "Unless I can join you in the shower."

She punched him lightly on the arm. "Don't be a child, Damon."

Elena peeled herself from the covers, without a word, and padded across the wooden floor into the bathroom. She knew he watched her every step. She could feel his eyes hammering into her naked back. She grabbed a soft, white bath sheet from the tall towel rail and wrapped herself in it, tucking the end in under her arm.

When she wanted to shut the door, Damon slammed his shoulder into it, all but barging in behind her. She made a point of glaring at him before she moved away to turn the shower on. When the room was full of steam, she dropped the towel, totally brazen, despite knowing Damon was looking at her, opened the shower door and got in to have a wash. The water was divine and relaxing, as she washed her hair, letting the water fell over her for the briefest of moments. But she had not got time to take full advantage of the soothing water. She opened her eyes and the shower door was flung open, the cool air attacking her wet, naked body.

"I thought I would shower with you," he drawled, smiling lecherously. "Save time. Save my house some hot water."

"Haven't you had me enough?" Elena asked, a massive part of her wanting him to say no.

He reached up, brushing his knuckles down her cheek. She unconsciously nuzzled into it, closing her eyes.

"Never. Never going to be enough," he said softly. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to his chest.

Oh God, what was she doing? This man was a magnet. He sucked all rationality right out of her. She lifted her face to his, letting him take her mouth gently and hesitantly, his hand moving from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers threading through her wet hair. He stroked her tongue and skimmed her lips worshipfully. Elena was lost in him again - completely lost.

x x x

Damon examined the contents of his fridge. "What do you want for breakfast?" he asked as Elena walked into the kitchen.

"Coffee will do."

"You need to eat something." He nodded towards the kitchen area. "Coffee mugs are in the cabinet on the right."

The rug that covered most of the floor in the living space gave way to vinyl in the kitchen. It felt cool against the soles of her feet. She took a mug from the cabinet above the marble counter and poured her coffee. It tasted as strong as it looked, but it was good.

"Cream is in the fridge."

"Thanks."

Once she had added cream to the coffee, Elena sat down in one of the chairs at the wood dining table. "You like to cook."

He turned on the flame beneath a burner on the gas stove, set a skillet on it, and began lining up strips of bacon in the skillet. "Yes, I do. What about you?"

She winced. She hated cooking. "I prefer take-away."

He laughed. "I guess that's a no." While the bacon sizzled in the skillet, he whipped eggs in a bowl.

"My dad, uh, I should say, my uncle, loved to cook. Mum hardly had to cook."

He removed the bacon from the skillet and poured the eggs into it, then put two slices of bread into a toaster. His motions were economical, like this was his daily routine. "Lucky woman."

She smiled as she thought about it. "Yes, she was very lucky."

"You are planning to find a husband who can cook for you in the future?" he asked casually.

"That's sounds like a good idea. I will put it in the list."

He glanced at her in a strange expression. "You mean you have a list of requirements Mr Right will have to meet before you agree to marry him?"

The dry question made her uncomfortable. "I know what I want in a husband. So what?"

"Huh-uh."

He came to the table with a handful of chinaware and divided the food between two plates, one of which he slid over to her. She sat down, then picked up a fork and began eating. The breakfast smelled delicious.

He stopped eating and looked at her. "Tell me, what kind of hoops will Mr Right have to jump through before you will agree to marry him?"

Stung, she held up one hand and ticked off the basics. "He'll be intelligent, well educated, a graduate of a good school, and successful in his field. He'll also be loyal, honourable, decent, and trustworthy."

"No criminal record?"

"Definitely no criminal record." She held up her other hand and continued down the list. "He'll be dependable, kind, sensitive, and capable of making a commitment. Someone I can talk to. Someone who shares my interests and goals. That's very important, you know."

"Uh-huh." He continued eating.

"He also has to be very supportive of my career."

"Right." He paused with a bite of bacon poised in mid-air. "But other than that, just an ordinary guy?"

For some inexplicable reason his mockery hurt. "You think I'm asking too much?"

He smiled faintly. "Get real. The guy you are looking for doesn't exist. Or if he does, he'll have some fatal flaw that you didn't expect."

His words blindsided her. "You really think so?"

He picked up his coffee mug and took a sip of the coffee. "Uh-huh."

They ate in silence for a while until it became unbearable to her. "Do you really think I'm asking too much?"

He exhaled slowly. "I think so. One thing for sure is I know I would never come anywhere near to meeting even half the requirements and specifications on it."

She hadn't expected that. "I beg your pardon?"

"See, why would women like you want to have a list of requirements for Mr Right?" he asked. "That put a lot of men including me at a serious disadvantage."

She shook her head once, dazed. "I don't get it. It really bothered you that you couldn't make my Mr Right list?"

"Let's get this straight." Watching her, he said, "I don't give a damn to the so-called Mr and Mrs Right lists. When I get married, I want to marry someone I could love with all my heart. Someone who loved me the same way in return."

Just then footsteps landed heavily on the doorway before she could answer.

"Elena?"

It was Stefan.

Elena glanced at Damon quickly. Damon wore a grey V-neck T-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. She was dressed in a skinny blood-coloured trousers with a matching lady suit she had worn yesterday. Both of them were dressed appropriately. Stefan could not possibly know that she had spent the night here.

Could he?

"Good morning, Stefan," she said easily. "Did you just finish your night shift?"

Stefan gave his brother a searching look. Damon picked up his coffee mug and took a sip of the coffee as though nothing had happened. Stefan was still rooted to the floor, staring at her. "What's she doing here?"

"We're having coffee," Damon answered casually.

"Coffee?" Stefan shot a look toward Damon. Then he turned back to look at Elena. A speculative gleam appeared in his eyes. "Where's your car, Elena?"

"Elena and I got into an accident last night," Damon said.

Stefan turned around at that. "What? Accident?"

Elena cleared her throat. "Yeah. Car accident."

Stefan's attention snapped back to her. "Are you okay?"

Elena nodded her head. "I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"Well, you know," Damon interrupted. "Faulty parts. Nothing too serious."

"Yes, nothing too serious. My car is with the mechanics now." She lied.

Damon stood up and cleared the table. "Elena is going to stay with us for a few days."

Stefan's face went blank with shock. Elena tensed but Damon pretended to ignore her. "It's too expensive to stay in a motel. And it is inconvenient," Damon said. "Since I'm going to help her with the investigation, it would be easier if she stays here."

Elena glanced at Damon. The excuse was weak. She knew it was weak even before she saw Stefan's brows lift.

"I can always look for other places," she said.

"There are six bedrooms in this house. You can have any room. Take your pick. Either one is fine by me, but I think you would be more comfortable here. There's more space than a motel," Damon said as he put the dishes into the sink. "I'm sure Stefan will agree."

"Uh, Damon's right," Stefan said. "You are more than welcomed to stay."

"People will talk," Elena said softly.

"People are already talking," Damon said dryly. "I doubt if the gossip will get any more exciting if you move in here."

She knew what Damon was thinking. It was a perfectly reasonable, eminently pragmatic suggestion she told herself. What if someone really had intended to kill her last night? It would be better if she was around with more people. And it would be better if she was around with Damon. She wouldn't mind spending more time with him.

"Okay," she said, trying to sound very cool. "I'll go back to the motel and pack my things."

"I will drive you to your motel," Stefan said.

"No, brother. You just finished your shift. You look awful." Damon came over to his side and patted his shoulder. "You are going to bed now. I will drive Elena back to the motel and give her a hand with the packing."

"But…"

"Stefan, you are tired. You should rest. Damon can drop me back to the motel," Elena said.

Ten minutes later Elena climbed into Damon's blue Camaro. Damon put the Camaro into gear and drove off toward the main road.

Elena folded her arms. "Why did you lie to Stefan?"

"Are you talking about the fact that someone was trying to kill you or the fact that we slept together?"

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

She was annoyed now. "This is not funny, Damon."

"Fine. What do you want me to say?" Damon argued angrily. "Should I say – Stefan, Elena and I almost got killed because someone damaged the brake. And by the way, we had the hottest and most fantastic sex in our entire lives afterwards. Do you want me to say something like these?"

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "I don't know." The flare of her temper had been short and sweet. Now she felt drained. "What are we going to do?"

"Right now we need to keep you safe. That's why you can't stay alone in the motel any longer." He wheeled the car up to the breezeway of the Mystic Motel and shifted the gear into park.

Elena stiffened. "There's a possibility that whoever damaged the brake was the one who killed Katherine."

"It's possible." He cut the engine and laid his arm along the seat, turning toward her. That's why I don't want to take any chances. I'm going to keep a close eye on you from now on."

She swallowed hard. "Did you really mean what you said just now?"

"What?"

She licked her lips and asked the only question that mattered. "Did you really mean it when you said…..you said you had the hottest and most fantastic sex in your entire life?"

He scooted along the seat of his Camaro until they were sitting very close. He slid his fingers up through her hair, laid his thumb along her neck and stroked it lightly. "Yes, never better," he whispered, brushing an airy kiss across her mouth. "I know anything between us would be complicated." His eyes wandered over her face while his fingertips touched each feature. "But I can't stop myself from wanting you."

For a moment, she was too stunned to speak.

She tried to think of something clever to say in response to that. She wound up clearing her throat instead. "And what do you want to do?"

"Right now I want to kiss you."

His thumbs moved gently just behind her ears. He eased her head back slightly and lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her slowly, lingeringly. When he raised his head she saw the hunger in him. She felt her blood heat.

"Where does that leave us?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

He bent his head and kissed her again then returned to the driver's side of the car and got out. "You go to your room to pack and I will let the reception know you are checking out today."


	8. Chapter 8

Elena showered and made the best job she could with her hair before slipping her tank top and denims on and grabbing her ankle booties on the way downstairs, but she came to an abrupt halt at the hallway near the kitchen.

"What the hell is going on here?" Stefan was basically growling. "Just what are you up to, Damon?"

Damon rinsed the red radicchio leaves under running water and dropped them gently into the colander on top of the arugula and cilantro. "Stefan, calm down."

"Calm down? You want me to calm down?" Stefan roared. "Then tell me what's happening here."

"Not much," Damon answered. When he finished rinsing the lettuce for the salad, he went to work on the hummus. He tossed a sizable quantity of cooked garbanzo beans into the food processor and added tahini, lemon juice, and a bit of garlic. 'Dinner will be ready on time if you stop distracting me." He snapped on the lid and flipped the switch.

"Don't try to change the topic. This is me, your brother, you are talking to. Why is Elena staying with us?"

"Well, I told you this morning. It's too expensive to stay in the motel. And it is inconvenient," Damon said as he switched off the food processor and removed the lid. He scooped out the fragrant hummus and put them into a bowl. "Want to try some?"

"Not now. You are trying to slip and slide around this thing. Don't waste my time. I want to know what's up with you and Elena."

"Absolutely nothing of any great interest to you." Damon glanced at the bowl of hummus and pita toast points arranged on the plate. "Are you sure you don't want to try some?" He picked up the small glass pitcher of very good, very expensive olive oil and poured a liberal stream of the rich, fruity oil over the hummus.

Stefan squinted, searching Damon's face. "Are you two sleeping together?"

Elena went still.

Damon's brows bunched and quivered in annoyance. "My private life is none of your business, Stefan."

"This is Elena we are talking about. There are always willing girls available to you. Why do you choose her?"

That did it.

Damon felt his Salvatore temper flash through him. It crackled and flared, surging forth from the windowless vault where he kept it locked and chained in the name of establishing total control.

He dropped the glass pitcher on the kitchen counter and turned on Stefan.

"What's your problem, Stefan? Why do you care who I sleep with? I'm not a monk, for crissake."

Stefan blinked. Then the lines at the corners of his eyes creased in wary concern. "Now, see here, Damon, this isn't what…"

"Don't tell me how I run my life." He glared at Stefan. "No one tells me how I live my life. No one tells me who I love."

"You know what your problem is?" Stefan shot back. "You don't give a damn about the people around you. You don't give a damn about your life. You are selfish!"

Elena winced at Stefan's words. Did Stefan have to be so harsh?

"You know what I haven't gotten?" Damon scoffed. "Blame, guilt. I get it Stefan. I get that you are pissed that Katherine died. Bet you think I killed her too."

"Yeah, you know what? I absolutely do," Stefan shot back. "

This was getting out of control, Elena thought. She drew in a deep breath before walking into the kitchen. Stefan went still. He was vaguely aware that Damon did the same. He avoided her eyes. She knew he was wondering how much of the conversation she had overheard.

"The hummus looks wonderful," she said a little too brightly.

"Thanks." Damon turned back to the kitchen counter. "Dinner will be ready soon."

"Am I interrupting anything?" she asked politely.

Neither said a word.

"Shall we have some wine before dinner? I hear that wine is good for the nerves," she said.

An hour later, Elena put down her fork with a sigh of satisfaction. Just a few slivers of buttery pastry were all that remained of the apple tart.

"Where did you learn to cook?" she asked Damon. "You can definitely have your own restaurant with a skill like that."

"Thanks," Damon said. "Cooking is only a hobby. I have never thought about having my own restaurant."

"Maybe you should," Elena said sweetly. "I would definitely come to your restaurant if you are serving food like this."

Damon grinned. "Well, if you eat in my restaurant, I will give you a discount."

Elena smiled back and took a sip of the wine from her glass. Stefan said nothing. He had hardly said anything the entire dinner.

"Stefan, are you sure you don't want to have some wine?" Elena asked as Damon filled her glass with more wine.

"No, I don't drink if I have to go to work," Stefan answered.

"Since we are talking about cooking, I'm curious to find out." Elena settled back in her chair and looked at Stefan across the table. "Do you cook, Stefan?"

Stefan shrugged. "Sometimes. If I'm not working."

"What about Katherine? Did she cook?" Elena asked.

Damon made a soft groan while Stefan made a face. "What?" Elena asked with a bewildered expression.

"Can you imagine Katherine cooking?" Damon chuckled. "Your sister couldn't even fry an egg without burning down the whole kitchen."

Stefan started to smile. "You are right. She would probably burn down the whole house."

Elena was astounded. "No kidding? Was she that bad?"

Damon flopped back in his chair. "I wouldn't allow her to go near my kitchen."

"Huh." Elena blinked, and then her eyes gleamed with secret amusement. "So I did get it from her. I'm afraid to say I can't fry an egg without making a mess."

Both Stefan and Damon started laughing.

"So what was Katherine good at?" Elena propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on the heels of her hands. "I bet she must be very good at driving you boys crazy."

The two men across her froze. Elena studied them. "She still had an effect on both of you after so many years, hadn't she?"

Stefan frowned. "Elena, can we talk about something else?"

Damon tossed his wine down and stood up. "I will deal with the dishes. Stefan, shouldn't you go to work?"

Stefan rose from his chair. "Yes, I need to get to work soon."

"Why are you guys avoiding the conversation?" Elena said through clenched teeth. "Stefan, didn't you believe that Damon killed Katherine?

Stefan blinked in astonishment. "You heard that?"

"Yes, I heard everything." She stood up. "Before I came to Mystic Falls, I thought Katherine was the perfect sister I could ever have. But obviously I was wrong."

"Elena, stop it," Damon scowled.

She gave a dry laugh. "Esther Mikaelson was right. Katherine was poison."

"I said that's enough." Damon's voice was sibilant and sinister.

"Katherine slept with Klaus."

The words reverberated down the kitchen. Stefan's head went back with a snap, as if he had sustained a quick, unexpected uppercut on the chin. "Who told you that?"

"He did." She watched them closely, adding softly, "He said he loved her."

Stefan gazed at her for a very long time. "Did he really tell you that?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Damon started clearing the dishes. "Stefan, you should go to work. It's getting late."

'Yes, I should go." Stefan turned away from the kitchen and started toward the front door.

She looked at Damon but he said nothing.

"I'll walk you out to your car," she called to Stefan

She caught up with him and together they went out onto the driveway.

"Look, Stefan, I'm sorry if what I said upset you…"

"Are you two sleeping together?" Stefan asked softly.

Her eyes widened.

"You like Damon."

"Stefan…"

"He likes you too."

Elena stiffened. There must be a problem in her hearing. Damon liked her?

"I was watching the two of you this evening. You ought to see the way he looked at you. And you look at him the same way."

She was too dumbfounded to speak for a moment.

"Trust me. I would be happy for you if you find someone who truly cares about you. But just make sure you are not Katherine's replacement."

He got into his car and drove away. She watched the taillights until they disappeared before she turned and walked back to the kitchen.

Damon was washing the dishes when she walked into the kitchen. She leaned against the refrigerator and watched him closely.

"You knew Katherine slept with Klaus, didn't you?"

His hands stilled in the soapy water for a moment before he continued washing again.

"Where were you that night when Katherine was killed?"

"Are you questioning me again?" He yanked his hands out of the sudsy water and grabbed a dishtowel. "What are you trying to prove?"

"I want to find out the truth." Her jaw was tensed. "Katherine might not be who I thought she was. But she was still my sister. My only sister. I want to punish whoever killed her."

"So you still think I killed your sister?" he shouted.

Elena stiffened as he took a few steps closer and lowered his face nearer to hers. "You can't prove it, not a frigging bit of it. It's all conjecture. You've got nothing on me, nothing on anybody."

"Why are you sleeping with me?"

Damon was momentarily stunned and speechless for a moment.

"Are you trying to distract my investigation? You don't want me to discover the killer, whoever he is," she said scornfully. "Am I right?"

Damon's face worked. For a moment Elena thought that he was going to explode with outrage. But instead he studied her face for a moment, and then sneered, "I can't believe I'm standing here listening to this shit."

'Then tell me why you are sleeping with me." Her expression was challenging. "Am I Katherine's replacement?"

He inclined forward until they were touching middle to middle. "You think I'm seeing you as Katherine's replacement?"

She swallowed hard. "You tell me."

He bent his head and kissed her. There was a difference in his kiss. The difference was subtle, yet tremendous. Elena sensed it immediately. Technically it was the same, as his tongue gently but possessively mated with her mouth. But somehow it was much more personal, more intimate, more giving.

She battled between her body's desperate need for him and her mind's strong need to talk. She wanted to clear the air before she was dragged back onto Central Damon Cloud Nine where she lost all cognitive reasoning. "Damon, we need to talk," she said as he pulled away from her mouth and kissed her throat and worked his way to her ear. Every nerve was buzzing, pleading with her to shut up and accept him.

"I need you," he whispered, finding her mouth and plunging his tongue in.

"Damon, please." Her voice was a breathy whisper.

"Baby, I do my talking this way." He gripped the nape of her neck and pulled her into him. "Let me show you."

Her body won.

Elena blanked out her screaming conscience and surrender to him like the slave that she was. He wrapped his arm around her lower back and carried her to his bedroom, sealing their mouths on the way, her entire being jumping to life as his hot, wet tongue slipped gently between her lips and glided slowly around her mouth.

He took the hem of her tank top and slowly pulled it up over her head before easing her back onto his bed and kissing the middle of her chest, running his tongue in a light, flicking circle up to her throat.

"Beautiful," Damon whispered as he removed her bra.

She moaned and pulled him down for a long, slow, wet kiss.

His slow, steady breaths told her he was in complete control as he rested on his forearm and used his hand to run his fingertip from her hipbone, all the way up to her breast, a steady wave of tingles traveling up her body in time with his touch, leaving her breath shallow and erratic. He finished by tracing the edges of her nipple wistfully to match the gentle motions of their tongues.

She held on to his shoulders, feeling all of the emotions flooding back into her under his gentle touch, his attentive mouth and his hard body flanking her. She was lost in him again.

Elena whimpered as he pulled his lips away from hers and sat back on his heels before he used his hand to drag her denims down her legs, taking her underwear with them.

'You are not Katherine," Damon said, looking down at her.

"I'm not Katherine."

"You are not Katherine's replacement. You never are." He threw her denim and underwear to the side and pulled her up, sealing their mouths.

Elena removed his belt and jeans and pressed her lips further to his as she pushed them all the way down his legs. He let out a long moan, easing her back down onto the bed. He was leaning half on her, half off, his hard, lean body spreading the length of her as he claimed her mouth, pushing his body further into hers.

He separated their mouths and buried his face in her hair as he cupped her between her thighs and drew his palm up the centre of her body, slowly over her stomach and then gradually up between her breasts, finishing against her throat.

"You are Elena. You are not Katherine," he murmured against her neck.

He pulled back for a moment to grab a condom from the drawer before joining her in the bed again. Elena sighed in pure, unapologetic pleasure as he slowly, unhurriedly and reverently pushed deep inside of her. She closed her eyes and slipped her hands to the back of his head as he filled her completely. He holds still, beating and kicking inside me. His change in breathing to quick, fast bursts of breath was a familiar trait. He was struggling to maintain control.

"Look at me," he demanded between pants, and Elena forced her eyes open and gasped a little when she felt him jerk inside her. "I love you," he whispered, his voice cracking.

Elena inhaled sharply at the words. Damon loved her? She hadn't expected this. This would complicate things. "Don't, Damon." She closed her eyes, her hands falling away from his head.

"Elena, look at me, now," he demanded harshly. She dragged her eyes open and met a straight, expressionless face. "I love you."

"No, stop. Don't say it."

He circled his hips into her, drawing a collective moan from both of them. "Elena, I have never felt like this before." He withdrew and pushed deep and high. Elena tried to rein in her scattered thoughts, but a moan escaped. "I have been with different women in the last fifteen years." He placed his hands over hers, pinning her wrists on either side of her head.

Thrust.

"Damon!"

"You are not like them, Elena."

Thrust.

"Oh God!"

He pulled back and rammed back in. "Jesus!" He stilled on a few deep breaths. "I don't know how you manage to make me fall in love with you in such a short period of time. But you did." He withdrew and slowly plunged back in.

"Damon, don't say anymore. Please…" she pleaded, shifting her hips up to capture the delightful penetration.

"I love you, Elena. I can't stop loving you."

"Don't!" she cried, when he hit her with a hard drive.

"You heard me," he said softly. "I can't stop loving you, baby."

Elena was stunned. She was melting beneath him, crippled by pleasure and now he was telling her he loved her? It was not what she had expected. It wouldn't be right. She couldn't love him, could she?

"Elena, I love you." He pushed high and ground firmly, a sweat breaking out across his brow. "I love you."

Her internal muscles started to spasm, tremors inching their way into the epicentre of her nerve endings. Her legs stiffen. "Damon, please stop. Please stop," she cried, throwing her head back in despair, both mentally and physically.

"Damn it, Elena, look at me." He hit her with a full, hard strike, and she dragged her eyes open on an angry yell. "I love you," he shouted, reinforcing his words with yet another slow withdraw and hard fast attack of his hips.

"Damon, don't!" she screamed.

He stopped his movements completely, their breaths rushed and frantic as he held her hands in place and looked down at me. "I love you so much. I didn't think it was possible." His words penetrated her deeply, the intensity of their joining having her heart kicking into a higher gear as he looked down at her, tears pricking the backs of his eyes. He smiled faintly and slowly withdrew himself. "I know you want me as badly as I want you," he said quietly, rocking gently back into her and capturing her lips in a slow, sensual kiss, full of meaning. He released his hold of her and her hands flew to his back, slipping across his damp skin.

His tactic had changed completely. Slowly and leisurely, he drove in and out of her, pushing her up towards complete rapture as she clasped at his damp back, holding as tight as she could. Sex with Damon had always been beyond compare, but this moment held a significant power that she never thought possible. Damon loved her.

Elena struggled to keep her emotions in check when he pulled back and held his face to hers, nose to nose, eyes full of sentiment. She was coming apart. The consistency of his controlled, deep thrusts had her shuddering and tensing around him as her core convulsed and gripped his shaft on each and every plunge. The sheen of sweat across his brow and his frown line deepened with concentration told he was tipping the edge too. Tilting her hips up on a thrust, she moaned as he filled her to her absolute limit, the feel of his rhythmic, meticulous tempo having her wanting to squeeze her eyes shut, but she couldn't drag them away from his.

"Trust me, I didn't kill Katherine," he said, his hot breath spreading across her face.

"I know," she gasped, feeling him expand and throbbed in preparation for his release.

"Christ, Elena." A rush of air escaped his lips and his body went rigid, but he didn't remove his eyes from her. Her back arched on reflex when the spiralling rush of pleasure reached its climax and sent her tumbling into a hurricane of uncontrollable feelings. Elena cried out in complete despairing pleasure, her body trembling in his hold. She closed her eyes to blink back the tears that had developed as her orgasm began to recede slowly and lazily.

A long moment later Damon rolled off her and pulled her back so she was against his chest. It felt so comfortable to be close to him and her eyes were incredibly heavy. Maybe she should go now, Elena thought. It would eradicate the risk of the morning awkwardness that would guarantee to descend on them come dawn. But then she felt him wrapped his forearms around her upper chest and her head automatically rolled back against his shoulder. She was so comfortable and so sleepy; she was not going anywhere. With him breathing steadily in her ear and planting random kisses every now and then in her hair, it was not long before she was hypnotised by the sound of his steady breaths and her eyelids were heavy. She reached down and started stroking the outside of his legs.

"Damon, it's not right," she mumbled, feeling herself drifting off.

He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. "No, it's right. Just not right now."

Elena sighed. She didn't have the energy to challenge him. She was a slave to sleep and she was gone.

x x x

Vicki Donovan dropped an overstuffed leather briefcase onto the vinyl seat and slid into the booth across from Elena.

"I didn't expect to get your call," she said.

"Thank you for seeing me, Miss Donovan."

"Call me Vicki."

"I have ordered some iced tea," Elena said. "I hope you like iced tea, Vicki."

"Iced tea is fine." Vicki took a sip of the iced tea from the glass. "Why do you want to see me?"

"I know you didn't like Katherine," Elena said softly. "You probably don't like me as well."

"You are right. I don't like you," Vicki answered coldly.

"I want to know more about Katherine. I hope you can help me," Elena said. "How long have you known her?"

Vicki settled back against the seat. "Long enough to know how selfish and manipulative she was."

Elena winced at her words. "Why did you say Katherine was selfish and manipulative?"

"Your sister liked to pit the boys against each other while she enjoyed the attention she could get from them."

"Katherine was a pretty girl. The boys wanted to get her attention. It wasn't her fault," Elena argued back.

"The Salvatore brothers were like puppies following her around. And there was Klaus." Vicki made a face. "She was such a flirt."

Elena grimaced. She really didn't like what she was hearing but she knew she had to listen if she wanted to find out the truth.

"Things had gotten worse after she won the title of Miss Mystic Falls," Vicki continued. "She was uncaring of other people's feelings. Poor Stefan was heartbroken because he was hoping their friendship could blossom into something deeper. But Katherine didn't even look at him."

"Did she turn Stefan down?"

Vicki shook her head. "No. And that's the problem. She abused his friendship. Damon was so silly to believe that she would marry him."

Elena caught her breath. "All Katherine wanted was to marry Damon."

Vicki sneered, "Don't tell me you believe that!? Katherine had always wanted money, fame and power. She wanted to get out of Mystic Falls and went somewhere where she could be popular, rich and powerful. She wanted a man who could give her all that. Damon would never be that man."

Elena gaped at Vicki's words. She couldn't believe what she heard. She felt sorry for Damon. Katherine must have hurt him badly.

"Your sister was giddy over the idea of Damon taking over the family business which was doing well at that time. I overheard her conversation with Damon one day. She even suggested to Damon to organise a get together with his father. She wanted to get her hands in the Salvatore's business. She probably had plans to take over the business eventually," Vicki sneered. "God! She was greedy."

"Maybe she was interested in business. She wanted to help Damon." It was a lame excuse. She knew it.

"Damon isn't the type of person who can sit in the office. He has no interest in the family business." She took another sip of the iced tea. "Katherine soon realised Damon wasn't the man she wanted. So she had changed her target again."

"Klaus." Elena drew a slow, deep breath.

Vicki snorted. "Katherine saw everything she wanted in the Mikaelson family. Klaus was blindly in love with her just like the Salvatore brothers. I saw them doing it at the back of his car."

Elena was puzzled. "Doing it?"

"Sex!"

"Sex?"

"Yeah, sex." Vicki looked at her with an eyebrow cocked in mockery "Don't tell me you haven't done it at the back of the car, sweetheart."

Elena blushed. "Uh, where were you that night when Katherine was killed?"

Vicki's mouth fell. "You think I killed Katherine? Are you crazy?"

"Where were you that night, Vicki?"

"She was with me the whole night."

The deadly voice was like a canon shot. Both Elena and Vicky turned quickly to see Damon standing near their booth. His rigid jaw and frigid eyes were clues to his extreme displeasure.

"Vicki was with me that night Katherine was killed. You can ask me more questions if you wish, Counsellor." He fixed a cold, blue stare on Elena. "Vicki, I think you should get back to work."

Nervously, Vicki rose to her feet. "I have to go back to the office. Uh, thanks for the iced tea."

She turned quickly and walked out of the Grill, leaving Damon and Elena staring at each other.

Elena's eyes were flashing when she flared, "You are interrupting my investigation."

"You are distressing everyone with your stupid investigation," Damon growled. "Why don't you just make life easier on all of us and give it up?"

"I can't!" she shouted back. She didn't care they were drawing attention from the other customers at the Grill. "I have every right to conduct this investigation as I see fit."

Damon glared at her for a brief moment, and then turned away from her. He stepped out of the Grill and walked toward his car.

"Damon!" Elena started after him.

Damon ignored her but she managed to catch up with him and grab his arm. "Were you with Vicky that night Katherine was killed? Why were you in the woods the next morning?"

Damon spun around. "You are so stubborn! Why can't you just give it up? I'm so sick of this investigation."

"Are you trying to protect someone?" Elena asked.

"Who?"

"Whoever killed Katherine!" she shouted.

"That's crap and you know it!" he retorted.

"So why were you in the woods so early? Why?"

"Dammit!" he cursed. "I went for a run. I needed to clear my head. Something was messing with my mind."

"Katherine?"

"No. Not Katherine." He shoved his fingers through his hair. "I was with Vicki that night Katherine was killed. We slept together."


	9. Chapter 9

It was almost midnight and Elena was still awake. All night she tossed and turned, pounding her pillow and alternately folding her covers neatly over her and then kicking them to the foot of the bed.

 _"I was with Vicki that night Katherine was killed. We slept together."_

Damon's words hit her like a blow in the stomach and robbed her of logical thought. She stood stupefied for several seconds staring at him. She didn't know what to say. Damon gazed at her for a long moment before getting into his car and drove away.

 _So, he slept with Vicki that night Katherine was killed_ , Elena thought. God, that hurt. His confession somehow disconcerted her. She couldn't be jealous, could she? _Yes! For the time when you made love to her. Yes. For the time you kissed her. Yes, I'm eaten up with jealousy._

She sat straight up in bed and switched on the light. What was wrong with her? Elena Gilbert was always in control. Until she met Damon.

With a silent curse, Elena covered her face with her hands. Dammit, falling for Damon was not part of her investigation! It would only complicate matters. She was spineless where Damon was concerned, putty in his hands. She kept telling herself it was only physical attraction between them. Normal sexual desire between a man and a woman.

She needed a drink to calm her nerves. She shoved aside the covers, grabbed her robe and walked out of her room. She went downstairs, crossed the hall, and walked into the kitchen. She stopped when she saw Damon standing in front of the counter with a glass in his hand. He had taken the time to pull on a pair of jeans, but that was all. His sleek shoulders gleamed in the kitchen light. His bare chest looked very sexy.

Elena came to a halt in the doorway. "You are still awake."

"Couldn't sleep," Damon said. He tossed down the drink in his glass. He held up a bottle of bourbon. "Want some?"

"No, thanks. I thought I heard some noise downstairs."

"Sorry." He poured himself another drink. "Did I wake you?"

"No."

There was a short silence.

Damon placed his glass on the kitchen counter and walked towards her. "I slept with Vicki once."

"You don't have to explain."

He stepped closer to her.

"There is nothing going on between Vicki and me."

"It's not my problem."

He took another step.

"I don't really care what's going on between Vicki and you."

His chest was almost touching her chest. Elena tipped her head back to meet his eyes. He didn't blink. She could feel his breath against her face. He slowly reached up and put his thumbs on either side of her face.

"Don't lie to me. You are jealous," he said, pulling her face up.

"No." She pulled herself away from him. "It's late. I'm going to bed." She turned to leave, hearing a familiar growl, his arm scooping around her waist and lifting her from her feet. Elena crumbled in half over his forearm.

He paced towards the kitchen island and flipped her around, sitting her on the cold wooden kitchen table. His eyes were full of displeasure. "I know you like me. Don't deny it." He nudged her thighs apart, edging between them with his hands on her waist, his face deadly serious.

"I have never said…" Her voice trailed off when he pulled her forward to meet his groin, his erection rubbing her in just the right spot. She moaned, placing her hands around his neck.

"Liar," he grumbled.

He stood before her, making quick work of his jeans and boxers. Elena sat patiently, more than happy to watch him undress. This man was a God. She dragged her eyes down the full loveliness of him and settling on his thick, pulsing erection.

"It's rude to stare," he said softly.

Her eyes jumped to his. He moved back into her, pulling her robe off her shoulder, slowly drawing it down her arms and tossing it behind him. "Cute PJs," he whispered as he pulled it up over her head.

Resting his hands on the edge of the kitchen table, he watched her as he leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, slowly swirling and flicking it with his tongue.

In pure, unashamed bliss, Elena sighed, reaching up to lace her fingers in his hair as he divided his attention between each of her breast. Her head fell back and she closed her eyes, absorbing his attentive mouth.

His tongue started a lazy trail up the centre of her body, finishing with a soft kiss on her chin. "Lift," he commanded, grasping her shorts and underwear. She braced herself up on the table, letting him pull them down her legs

"Beautiful," he said hoarsely as he took her hands, gently pushing her back until she was flat on her back and looking up at him. "Don't ever deny the fact that you like me."

Elena shuddered under his piercing eyes, the light throb of her sex kicking in to high gear, as she writhed on the kitchen table under his intoxicating stare. She reached up to pull him down onto her. Damon let her took him, dropping his lips to hers and resting his chest on her. The warmness of his body all over hers catapulted her straight to Central Damon Cloud Nine.

She gently coaxed his tongue from his mouth with small butterfly flicks, smiling against his lips as he moaned deep in his throat. His arm snaked under her lower back and tugged her up from the table, supporting her as he suspended her and claimed her mouth. Her arms remained around his neck, working her fingers through his hair as he continued to ravish her, and she continued to writhe.

Straying away from her lips, he began kissing his way up her cheek to her ear, making a point of grinding his hips against her, instigating the familiar heaviness to weigh down in her groin. Elena moaned, long and low, as her fingers curled tightly in his hair and he bit her lobe, slowly dragging it through his teeth.

"Damon," Elena panted, arching herself into him.

He dropped a tender kiss on the hollow of her ear, easing her down onto her back.

With his upper body braced on one arm at the side of her, he gently brushed the hair from her face. She watched as he studied her thoughtfully.

"Don't deny you like me. It will kill me," he said softly, his eyes searching hers.

Elena absorbed his words, completely stunned by his confession.

She gazed up at him. She wanted to ask questions, but as she drew breath to speak, he dropped his head to her breast, flicking his tongue over her already taut nipple. She bucked when his teeth clamped over her tight bud, the sharp stab arching her back and pushing her breast up further, forcing him to pull away slightly to accommodate her.

She moaned. She was a sweating mess. Her fingers were clawed in his hair as she squirmed under his expert tongue. He had the most incredible mouth.

In her subliminal state, she felt him pulled away from her. She heard foil tear somewhere. And then he was on top of her again. He hovered over her face, looking into her eyes before resting his lips gently on her, brushing from side to side. "You are amazing. I need to be inside you."

He shifted quickly, and in one measured movement, he yanked her forward and impaled her on his waiting arousal. She cried out at the shock invasion.

"I love you," he gasped, pulling out and firing forward again. She cried out, throwing her arms over her head as he clamped onto her thighs tightly, pulling her back and forth on the table to match his momentum. She peeled her eyes open and found him sweating, his jaw clenched.

"I love you, Elena," he shouted over her cries.

"Damon!"

In her desperation to control her rolling orgasm, she found his shoulder and latched on with her mouth, sinking her teeth into his flesh.

"Elena!"' he roared.

She released his shoulder, threw her head back on a harsh cry and erupted into a splintering follow up orgasm.

He stilled suddenly, his breathing ragged and violent, and then he thundered forward one last, powerful time. "Jesus!" he barked, jerking against her, inside and out. Elena was convulsing in his arms with her own fitful breathing, trying to gulp down some valuable air into her overworked lungs.

Shock and awe. Wow! She clenched her arms and legs tighter around him, close her eyes and melted into his body.

She felt so overwhelmed. She had never felt so needed or wanted. Her time with Damon, good and bad, strops and affection, had blasted any other feelings she had had, well and truly, out of the water. She opened her eyes, knowing he was looking at her.

"I love you," he whispered, gazing down at her.

She closed her heavy lids and pulled his head down to bury her face in his neck, completely losing herself in him.

"We need a shower."

Elena dragged her eyes open. She was being lifted from the kitchen table, she was wrapped around Damon and she had no intention of letting go. "Let's stay," she murmured dreamily. She was so tired.

He chuckled. "Just hold on. I will do all the work."

So she did. She held on tight, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his shoulders, as he carried her through the hallway, up the stairs and into the bathroom.

"Put me in bed," she griped as he deposited her on the vanity unit.

"You are sticky, I'm sticky. Let me wash us both, then we can get in bed and snuggle. Deal?" He went to turn the shower on.

She looked up at him through sleepy eyes. "No, put me in bed," she grumbled.

"Elena, you are adorable when you're sleepy." He scooped her up from the unit and carried her into the shower. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, making no attempt to free herself from his warm body. The water was blissful. "I'm going to put you down," he said. She tightened her grip around him. He laughed. "I can't wash you down without any free hands."

"Don't go."

He sighed, leaning his back against the tiled wall with her still clutched to him. Turning his face into hers, he dropped a tender kiss on her forehead, humming against her skin. She acknowledged the contact through her sleepy state by nuzzling his neck, humming her own little sigh of contentment.

One arm released her, his knee rising to meet her backside, while he leaned over and grasped the shower gel from the shelf, dropping it to the floor before doing the same with the shampoo. He lowered his knee, slipped his arm back under her bent legs and slowly slid down the wall, holding tightly onto her. She felt the firmness of the shower floor beneath him as they came to rest on the floor.

She knew she was restricting him with her arms clenched around his neck, but she didn't move them, and he didn't complain. He worked around her, holding her with one arm, washing and rinsing her hair with his free hand as best as she would allow. His task was unhurried as he cleaned her body, his hand gliding over her tenderly in slow, careful circles, wheedling her into a slumber. She kept her hold of him. She didn't want to ever let go.

"I want to look after you forever," he whispered, pressing his lips against her temple.

She released a hand from his neck, brushing down his chest to his abdominals, slowly circling his belly button.

He let out a long, tired breath. "Come on, let's get you out."

She pulled herself away from him and got to her feet. "Let me help you." She dipped and picked up the shower gel, squirting some in her hands.

He watched her as she worked up a lather in her hands and place her palms against his chest, his gaze fixed on her hands while they worked over him.

When she was done, she leaned in to drop a chaste kiss on the centre of his chest. She looked up at him and found his eyes were squeezed shut, his face turned up towards the ceiling. She reached up and kissed his throat to get his attention, but a few seconds pass before he brought his face down to her.

She smiled at him, and he offered a little one in return. It was not convincing, and it had her wondering what was causing his anguish.

"What's wrong?" Elena asked nervously.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything is right." He cupped her cheeks in both of his hands, giving her a half smile, his eyes running all over her face before he turned the shower off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his narrow waist.

She walked out behind him, and she was immediately engulfed in a soft bath sheet. He rubbed her from top to toe, working the excess water from her hair.

"You want me to carry you?" he asked.

She actually did. She nodded and he smiled approvingly, scooping her naked body up into his arms and carrying her to the bed. She crawled under the sheets, inhaling deeply as her head rested on the pillow, the delicious waft of Damon swamping her senses.

He dropped his towel. She opened the covers in invitation and as soon as he was close enough, she crawled into his chest, burying her face under his chin, her hot breath ricocheting off his neck, back into her face. She drew her leg up, resting her upper leg between his thighs.

She was completely swathed in him, and it was the most soothing place in the world.

"You're too comfy," she garbled into his throat.

"I am?"

"You are."

"Good. Go to sleep, baby." He dropped a kiss on top of her head and squeezed her to him.

There was no space welcome between them.

x x x

Elena regained consciousness with Damon lying between her thighs, rubbing his nose against hers. She forced her eyes open.

"Morning, sunshine."

She groaned, extending her arms above her head in a long, satisfying stretch. Oh, she slept very well. As she settled back down, she felt Damon's morning hard on nuzzling between her thighs, a flicker of a smile playing at the sides of his mouth.

She wiggled under him. "Morning, yourself."

He reached out to open a drawer in the nightstand. In one swift movement, he drove deep into her. She held onto his tight biceps as he rested on his forearms and worked up into a firm, steady rhythm.

He opened his eyes. "I love sleepy sex with you."

She stared into his calm, peaceful face and let him take her to paradise. A long time later, he collapsed onto her in an exhausted heap.

He laid sprawled across hers, melting into the rhythm of her fingers circling his back, his semi-erection drumming steadily inside hers. Their heartbeats were clashing together between their chests as they tried to regulate their breathing.

"I love sleepy sex with you." He kissed the top of her head before he rolled to his back beside her, pulling her against his side, wrapping his arms around her.

"Tell me about Vicki."

Damon let out a long sigh. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him, trying to read his expression.

"I thought Katherine and I knew each other well. I thought we had an understanding. But she made it clear that I couldn't be the man she wanted to marry. Naturally, I was crushed to learn that Katherine was sleeping with Klaus. I was nothing more than a plaything for her." He gave a mirthless laugh. "That night I was at the Grill and I picked up Vicki. The sex was good. I admit it. It did my ego good."

She had a vision of Damon hanging around the Grill picking up on girls and felt intensely sad.

"Don't look at me like that, Elena. I know it wasn't a good way to act."

"I wasn't judging, Damon."

He looked unconvinced. "Well, anyway, it was a one-night stand. It wasn't flattery when I woke up the next morning. I was so pissed with myself. I hated myself so much."

"That's why you went to the woods."

Damon nodded. "Running is a great way of relieving stress. I go for a run every morning," he paused. "I always go for a run after I take a woman to bed."

There was a short silence. He started chewing his lips. "I can't change my past, Elena. I'm not a good person. Ever since Katherine died, I couldn't help being just a little ticked off that I couldn't be the man she wanted. So I had been with different women all these years."

The confession saddened her. "Oh, Damon…."

"I have lost count how many one-night stand I have had," he said in a remorseful voice. "But I ended up hating myself so much after sleeping with them."

She put her hand on his bare chest. "Stop blaming yourself, Damon. You know you don't have to prove anything to anyone. Or to yourself."

"I know."

"Are you still in love with Katherine?"

His eyes instinctively flew to hers. "I love the good memories of her. I also hate the painful ones. But, if you are suggesting that I'm fixated on her ghost, let me assure you that I'm not." His eyes never left her face. "My relationship with her – good, bad, or indifferent – wouldn't prevent me from having another."

He leaned closer and brushed his lips gently over hers. "One thing I have been wanting to tell you."

"What's that?" she whispered softly.

"I don't run in the morning anymore," he whispered against her mouth. "You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I love sleepy sex with you." His lips met hers again.

His kiss was possessive. Wild. All-consuming. It was the kind of kiss that Elena didn't have the strength to resist. Eventually they broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily.

"I love you, Elena."

"Damon, don't…" Her words were cut off as his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was both rough and tender. And then he gentled the kiss, brushing his parted lips on hers in a light, exquisite touch that was even harder to resist than the other one. He trailed his lips to her ear and nipped the lobe, his whisper sending shivers down her spine. "Don't ask me to stop loving you. Don't," he said huskily, his mouth sliding over her cheek toward her lips again, "I can't stop loving you. I can't and I won't."

Elena opened her mouth to say something, and the instant she did, his mouth captured hers. And she was lost. Intoxicated by the masterful strokes of Damon's tongue, she shivered and opened wider to him, giving him the access he was ruthlessly demanding.

She whimpered into his mouth as he stroked, first one nipple and then the other, repeating the action while plundering her mouth until the tension in her body was nearly making her insane.

He ripped his mouth from hers, his breath coming in heavy pants. Elena was just as breathless and she let her head fall back slightly, giving him access to the sensitive skin at her neck as he explored it with his tongue. She closed her eyes, every nerve in her body pulsating, electrified. "Damon," she hissed. "It's not right…"

"No, it's right." His warm breath caressing her ear. Without warning, he rolled her onto her back and came down on top of her.

Their eyes caught and held as Damon leaned forward, his forearms resting on both sides of her. For Elena, it was like time stopped completely for just an instant, and she could see her own passion reflected in Damon's intense blue eyes.

He broke the stare as his head lowered to her breasts, his hands cupping and stroking her nipples before he sucked, biting down gently on one of the sensitive peaks. The pain and pleasure of it nearly broke her, her body thrashing beneath him with unsated desire.

"You want me. You want this." He parted her thighs wide, his index finger toying mercilessly with her clit, moving over the wet bundle of nerves effortlessly.

Elena closed her eyes and moaned. "Yes." She didn't just want it; she needed it. Her entire body was rigid, coiled tightly and ready to unravel.

He eased his fingers into her, moving them inside her until she was squirming. Damon seemed to know exactly where to touch, how to chafe against those sensitive areas inside her that made her ready to beg for relief from the torment.

Her hips lifted, needing more. "Don't stop, Damon."

His fingers thrust into her harder, faster, while he continued to caress through her smooth folds, moving more and more roughly over her clit. "Tell me you want me," he demanded coarsely. "Say my name. Tell me you want me."

"You." Elena was out of her mind with desire, her legs trembled and something tight and hot spiralled in her belly.

"Who do you want?" He thrust into her deeply, lowering his head to bite the soft skin that was exposed on her thigh, as though he wanted to leave his mark.

"Oh, God. You." His bite wasn't gentle. It was just enough to take her spiralling over the edge of sensation. "Damon," she finally moaned, her body trembling as her climax hit her full force. "Damon, I want you," she screamed, her being splintering apart, her entire body quivering with her explosive release.

"Look at me," he ordered, intentionally lengthening her orgasm by keeping up his assault on her sensitive clit.

Elena opened her eyes, breathless, her unfocused gaze meeting his fierce stare as her body still rippled with waves of ecstasy. "Damon?" she panted, suddenly feeling very raw and very vulnerable. Her body had never reacted this way before, and it was a little daunting to realize just how much need and passion this man could wring out of her.

He held her tightly against his body, as if he knew how she was feeling and he was trying to soothe her. "I was right. You want me as badly as I want you," Damon said huskily in her ear as he nuzzled the side of her face.

Elena took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I won't deny I want you," she admitted in a tremulous voice. "But anything between us would be complicated, Damon."

"I know."

"I won't stop my investigation."

"I know."

"This won't be easy."

"Nothing worthwhile is."

"I don't know where this will lead."

"But we know where we hope this will. We also know this will lead to nowhere if we don't give this a try."

"Damon," she murmured. "You have been attracted to me for how long?"

He smiled. "Not attracted, Elena. Obsessed."


	10. Chapter 10

Seated on the floor beside the coffee table with her legs curled beneath her, a pencil in her hand, and a stack of blank paper she had found in a desk at her elbow, Elena studied the documents of the court hearing and the autopsy report. Damon had given her a list of people who had last seen Katherine before she died.

Damon sat on the sofa beside her, watching her and carefully suppressing his smile at the absurd notion of Elena being able to succeed where the PD department had failed. Clad in navy lace trim camisole and a pair of dark blue jeans, with her long hair gathered at the nape and bound with a rubber band, she looked more like an enchanting high school girl than an attorney, and she bore absolutely no resemblance whatsoever to any detective, real or imaginary. Sunlight streamed in from the windows behind her, gilding her shiny hair with russet, highlighting her glowing skin and vivid colouring. She interrupted his pleasurable contemplation of her profile by turning her almond eyes up to his and saying in a puzzled voice, "I thought it was strange for Elena not to turn up to the Back to School Party. Why would she go to the woods?"

"The Back to School Party is held at the backyard of Mystic Falls High School which is close to the woods," Damon said, reluctantly turning his attention to the business at hand. "Katherine was planning to go to the Bonfire but somehow she went to the woods."

"Why would she do that?"

He shrugged. "Who knows?"

"You found Katherine in the woods early in the morning."

"That's right."

"And you found Gregor Bradley next to her."

"Yes."

"Tell me about it."

He hesitated, and then said, "She was covered with blood. It was in her hair, on her clothes, everywhere."

Elena had heard jaded homicide detectives discussing gory murder sites with more emotion. Damon's voice was hollow and monotonous, but his features were stark with pain. "Her eyes were still open."

"What time was that?" she asked huskily.

"When I found her?" She nodded, finding it difficult to speak. "Dawn. Around six-thirty."

"Gregor Bradley was next to her?"

Damon nodded.

"Why was he in the woods?"

"Gregor had no place to stay. He normally wandered in the woods."

Elena opened a file and withdrew a sheaf of papers. "I had read the transcript of Gregor Bradley's hearing, and I can't understand what the rush was."

"What do you mean?"

"Gregor Bradley was arraigned on a charge of first-degree murder and held without bail in the Mystic Falls jail. His competency hearing was held three days later."

"I can't see any problem to that. Maybe Judge Tanner saw no need for a postponement."

"But don't you think it was odd for him to make the ruling so hastily? Why did Gregor Bradley kill Katherine? What was his motive?"

"Gregor was mentally retarded. Who knows what he was thinking at that time?"

"I know that most people in town merely tolerated Gregor. Did Katherine dislike him as well?"

Damon shook his head. "No. In fact Katherine was nice to him. Gregor latched on to her, in a pathetic way. I saw him as a nuisance, the way he followed her around like a devoted little puppy."

"Were you jealous?"

"No! Of course not. Why would I be jealous of a mentally retarded person?" Damon countered dryly.

Elena shrugged, trying hard to suppress a grin. "Who knows? Don't forget you were obsessed with Katherine at that time."

"Don't try to tease me, Counsellor," he said through gritted teeth.

"Okay, fine. Do you think Gregor Bradley liked Katherine?"

"I figure that Gregor mistook her kindness for a deeper emotion."

She read through the papers. "According to the hearing, he followed her into the woods that night and, tried to force his attentions on her." She looked up. "And when she rebuffed him, he couldn't handle the rejection, so he stabbed her twenty times."

"It's not impossible. Gregor probably turned violent because Katherine rejected him."

"I don't believe that. The attending psychiatrist from the mental hospital said that Gregor Bradley was a model patient. He never demonstrated any violent tendencies. He had no apparent sex drive, and in the doctor's expert opinion, he was incapable of committing a crime that could cost Katherine's life."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I don't think Gregor killed Katherine. He always wandered in the woods. Somehow, he was there at the wrong time."

"Alright. If your assumption is correct, then why did Katherine go to the woods?"

"To meet the man who could take her out of Mystic Falls," Elena said slowly. "And she didn't want to be seen with whoever she met there."

His smooth forehead furrowed into a frown, and she said, "What's wrong?"

"The man Katherine was going to meet could be the man who damaged your brake."

Elena winced at the thought of it. "Do you think he killed Katherine? But why? Who is this man?"

"He is from this town since he knows you are here to investigate Katherine's case."

"Besides the three of you, was Katherine close to other boys? Did she have a boyfriend?"

"I wasn't aware Katherine had a boyfriend officially. But since she was sleeping with Klaus, it was possible she was seeing someone else at the same time."

"You are right," she answered bluntly.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be rude…"

"I understand, Damon." She reassured him. "You were with Vicki that night. Klaus was in Richmond." She drew a long breath and said quietly, "Stefan."

Damon's eyes widened. "What?"

"Where was Stefan that night?"

"Stefan didn't kill Katherine." He stood up. "He wouldn't kill her."

"Damon, please calm down." She rose from the floor. "I'm not saying Stefan killed Katherine. But you can't ignore the fact he is a suspect."

"What do you mean?"

"Stefan was hurt because Katherine didn't want him. Could she have done or said anything to him to make him hate her so much that he wanted to kill her?"

"It doesn't sound very likely," Damon said. "Stefan would never hurt her."

"Jealousy can make people do crazy things."

"I didn't kill Katherine."

Both Damon and Elena jumped at Stefan's voice. He walked into the living room and stood in front of them. "I didn't kill Katherine."

"Where were you that night?" Elena asked.

"I was at the Bonfire. But after a while, Matt and Tyler suggested to have a drink somewhere else."

'Matt and Tyler?"

"Matt Donovan – Vicki's brother," Damon answered. "Tyler is Richard Lockwood's son. They were in the football team."

"Okay. So where did the three of you go?"

"We went to this bar out of town. I don't remember. It was fifteen years ago," Stefan said. "I was drunk that night. By the time I gained consciousness, I was already in Tyler's house. According to Matt, Tyler's mum came to pick us up because the three of us were too drunk to drive safely."

"Where is this bar? Can you remember the address?" she asked Stefan.

"Hey, Counsellor, you think Stefan is lying about this?" Damon sounded annoyed.

"No. But I have to make sure," she answered. Damon looked at her sharply. "I can't afford to make any mistake. I have to cover every detail."

"I understand," Stefan said. "I can't tell you the exact address but it is about thirty minutes' drive from here. I have heard from Tyler that Klaus loves to hang around in that bar."

x x x

When she stepped inside the bar, Elena was tempted to turn and run, but remembering what had taken her there, she walked boldly to the bar. The music was loud. There was a group of people dancing in the centre of the bar.

Taking her glass of wine with her, she moved to a booth and slid into the bench that would afford her the best view of the room. Sipping self-consciously, she let her gaze move from one face to another, trying to figure out whether Klaus was among them. Klaus and Katherine had been to this bar previously. Maybe she could get some information here.

Then, to her horror, she realized that some of the men took her close scrutiny of them as encouragement. Suddenly, someone propped against the back of the padded bench across the table from her and smiled down as he tilted a long-neck beer bottle to his lips. "Hello, beautiful."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Klaus?"

"Do I know you, dear?" Klaus asked, slurping another draft of beer.

He must have drunk a lot, Elena thought.

"Klaus, I'm Elena."

"Elena?" Klaus leaned closer. "Oh, Elena. I'm sorry. I didn't expect to see you here."

"You come here a lot?"

"I like it here." He tossed the beer down. "Wanna dance?"

"Dance?"

"Yeah, dance." He took her glass and laid it on the table then led her through the bundle of dancers to the middle of the floor. Pulling her close, he whispered in her ear, "Katherine loved to dance."

"Katherine?"

"I used to bring her here. She loved it." He held her suffocatingly close and pressing her into his body. His breath was hot and all Elena could smell were alcohol fumes. "You smell good."

"I think you have too much to drink tonight." She planted her palms on his chest to push him away, applying only a little pressure for fear she might push him over.

'You smell like her. You smell like Katherine," he said huskily. "I miss you, Katherine."

"You are drunk, Klaus…" His next move took her completely by surprise as his mouth crashed down on hers.

Elena struggled to pull away from him. "Let go of me, Klaus." She tore her mouth away from his but Klaus tightened his arms around her. His lips descended to slide along her neck and down to her collar. "Stop, Klaus…."

"I miss you, Katherine. I miss you so much," he whispered against her throat before he captured her mouth again.

Out of a sudden, someone pulled him off Elena and flung him to the floor. Someone screamed. Everyone stopped dancing. Every head in the room had turned.

"You bastard!" Damon growled as he pulled Klaus up from the floor. His teeth clenched and he hissed harshly, "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Damon, stop. He is drunk." Elena clutched his shoulders with desperate hands. "I'm okay. Let him go."

Damon released his grip on Klaus and turned his attention back to Elena. "You sure you are okay?"

She reassured him. "I'm fine."

'Let's get you out of here." He put his arms around her shoulders, turned her smartly around, walked out of the bar and shoehorned her into the front seat of his car before she could say another word.

Elena could sense Damon's anger when they reached his house. His eyes were blazed with fury. The sensuous smile was gone. In their place was a thin, grim slash of a mouth set in a granite-hard chin.

"You are mad, aren't you?" she said as she stepped inside the house.

He slammed the door behind him. "Of course I'm mad. What are you thinking?" he roared. "Going to a bar alone. You could get yourself into trouble."

"I'm fine. Nothing happened."

He took a step closer. "Nothing happened? You wouldn't say that if I didn't turn up."

Elena folded her arms across her chest. "Klaus was drunk. I could handle it myself."

"Handle it yourself? How?" he shot back. "How are you going to handle it yourself? By going to bed with Klaus?"

Rage surged through her. "I'm going to bed."

She brushed past him, hurrying for the stairs. But Damon was faster. Before she reached the stairs, she was hoisted off her feet with one arm and thrown over his shoulder.

"You are not going anywhere, lady," he said smugly as he walked up the stairs towards his bedroom with her draped over him.

"Damon, let go of me!" she screamed and wriggled.

"Stop kicking unless you want me to drop you on the floor," he warned.

She stopped fighting until he reached his bedroom. He lowered her down his body slowly until her face was level with his, her feet touching the ground, his chest firm and warm against her.

And then she was in his arms, clinging wildly, his lips against her throat.

"I was so worried when I didn't see you here this evening," he whispered urgently against her neck. "I knew you must have gone to the bar Stefan mentioned last night. You shouldn't have gone there alone."

"It's okay," she said into his mouth. "Everything is okay."

"Are you sure you are alright?"

"I will be soon."

"Did Klaus hurt you? I ought to kill him…"

She pulled his head down and melted her lips onto his before he could finish the sentence. He groaned and pulled her closer to him. She moaned, moving her hands up in his hair to hold on to him as he lifted her and secured her against his body, their tongues lapping and circling slowly. He took her to the bed, laying her beneath him, her hands placed above her head.

He released her mouth and sat up, leaving her hot, dazed and panting short, sharp breaths.

"Damon…"

"Promise me you will never ignore your own safety."

"I promise you," she whispered.

He stepped back to undress himself and grabbed a condom before he crawled back on the bed. 'I can't lose you, Elena."

"You won't." They spent a few silent moments gazing at each other before his lips fell to hers, instantly catapulting her to Central Damon Cloud Nine – her most favourite place in the universe.

He removed her clothing with practiced skill and maddening leisure, frequently stopping to nibble and caress. Her arms found his shoulders and accepted his weight as he buried his face in her neck and sighs, his raging arousal thumping lightly against her thigh. She shifted her hips so it fell to her opening.

"You make me so crazy mad, lady." He breathed into her neck, lifting himself and slowly driving into her on a stifled moan. Elena whimpered, gripping every muscle around him. "Please don't do that again." He reached down and snaked his arm under her knee, pulling it up to drape her leg over his hip before bracing his upper body on his forearms. Slowly, he withdrew and lazily worked his way in again, his eyes fixed on her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, circling her hands in his hair.

He pulled back, driving forward on a moan. "Elena, everything I do, I do to keep you safe. Please listen to me."

Elena moaned on another deep, delightful plunge. "I will," she confirmed, but she was aware she was raging with pleasure and, he could make her say anything he wanted. She didn't need keeping safe – except, perhaps, from him.

He gazed down at her. "I need you." He looked despondent, throwing her out completely. "I really need you, baby."

She was mindless on pleasure, totally swallowed up by him.

"Why do you need me?" Her voice was broken and husky.

"I just do. Please, don't ever leave me." He plunged forward again, enticing a collective moan.

"Tell me." She groaned, clenching at his shoulders, but ensuring she kept eyes fixed on his.

"Just accept that I need you and kiss me."

Elena looked up at him, torn by her body's need for him and her brain's need for information. He was leisurely working his way in and out of her at the dreamiest pace, gradually encouraging another build-up of pressure to begin. She couldn't control it.

She pulled his face down to her, worshipping his wonderful mouth, as he sinked in and out, rolling his narrow hips each time. The mechanical tense of her body set in as her pleasure peaked and she started to wobble on the edge of release, short sharp breaths escaping as she tried and reigned in her impending climax.

"Not yet, baby," he warned softly, grinding hard on another drive forward.

She clawed her fingers into his shoulders, a wordless signal that she was tipping the edge. He groaned, biting her lip and jerking forward.

"Together," he mumbled against her mouth. She nodded her acceptance as he increased his strokes and carried them both closer to ultimate ecstasy, all the time maintaining his controlled, accurate drives.

"Nearly there, baby," he moaned.

"Damon!"

"Hold on, just hold on," he said calmly, plunging forward again, executing a painfully deep, delicious rotation of his hips, pushing himself forward as far as he could get.

They both cried out.

"Now, Elena" He withdrew, driving forward again, harder.

Elena let it go, feeling him throbbed and jerked inside her as they swallowed each other moans and both rolled over, descending into a calm, unhurried fall into nothing. Her body trembled and her heart was hammering in her chest.

She kissed him adoringly as he relaxed on her, holding her leg over his hip and pushing his body further into her, releasing everything he had, moaning in pure, raw pleasure.

The unwelcome invasion of moisture crept into her eyes, and she fought real hard to prevent them from falling and ruining the moment. He continued to accept her reverent kiss, meeting her slow, sweeping tongue, stroke for stroke. She was trying to tell him something with this kiss. She was desperate for him to recognise it.

She loved Damon!

He pulled back, breaking their kiss and frowned at her. "What's the matter?" he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

"Nothing," she replied too quickly, mentally cursing her wretched hand for shifting on the back of his head. He searched her eyes, and she relented on a sigh. "Nothing."

"What's nothing?" The confusion in his voice was quite clear.

"Nothing means nothing." She felt stupid all of a sudden, wanting to retreat under the covers.

His eyes softened and he swivelled his hips slowly. He kissed her gently, releasing her leg. "Are you okay?"

 _No, I wasn't!_ "Fine," she replied, more harshly than she intended. Was the man so thick skinned that he couldn't see a woman in love when she was lying underneath him?

"You are upset."

"No, I'm not." She wriggled a little underneath him.

He narrowed his eyes on her. "Yes, you are. Care to tell me why are you sulking?"

"I'm not sulking," she said oversensitively. But it was obvious that she was.

Damon shook his head on a long tired sigh before he rolled back onto his back. For several long moments he was quiet. "Are you having second thoughts about this?" he finally asked.

She looked at him, surprised. "No."

"Are you sure?"

She flinched. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't think we stand a chance." He cursed beneath his breath. "We had sex and that's it, right?"

She sat bolt upright. Aware that she was nude, she grabbed the sheets and held them to her breasts. "Damn it, Damon, don't you dare imply that having sex is no different than…"

He regarded her with frustration. "No different than what? A game?"

Anger, pain, and outrage slammed through her without warning. She found herself teetering on an invisible emotional cliff that she had not even noticed a few seconds ago.

"This is not a game."

"Then what is it, Elena?" He sounded serious and intent. "Why did you sleep with me? I know I would never come anywhere near to meeting even half the requirements and specifications on your Mr Right's list."

She winced. "You remember that list?"

"Never forget it."

"Good grief, that's crazy. You are pissed because you couldn't make my Mr Right list."

He rolled her onto her back and came on top of her. "Yes, I'm pissed with the fact that I personally couldn't make your Mr Right list." He squeezed his eyes shut and bared his teeth in a grimace of pain before going on. "I know I'm wrong for you. You don't have to feel sorry for me."

There was a short silence. She studied him for a long, brooding moment. "This is not a game. And I certainly didn't sleep with you because I felt sorry for you."

"So what's the reason?"

"I am sleeping with you because, among other things, I am a mature, unattached adult who happens to be physically attracted to you and also because—"

An eagerness that bordered on desperation swept through him. Get a grip, he thought. "And also because—?"

He sensed that she was on the verge of saying something crucial. But in the next heartbeat the intense, important thing disappeared beneath a breezy smile.

"And because you can cook," she said demurely.

So what the hell had he expected her to say? He wondered. "I can cook?"

"Yes. Just like my dad who was a good cook. He always cooked for my mum."

"Huh."

"You know what they say; a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. The same applies to women."

He thought about that for a while. "Sounds like a reasonable explanation."

"Hmm, hmm."

He brushed the hair away from her face, looking at her affectionately. "Kiss me."

"You are not pissed now?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

His mouth closed over hers. His mouth moved over hers with supplicant precision until her lips parted to receive his persuasive tongue. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, and sensually.

She was breathless when, at last, he lifted his head. "You make me crazy," he whispered hoarsely. "You make me so happy."

"Do I? I thought I made you crazy?"

He looked at her in the eyes. "You make me crazy happy." He kissed her nose. "You also make me crazy mad."

"I prefer you when you are crazy happy, but I don't like you when you are crazy mad."

His lips twitched. "Then stop doing things to make me crazy mad."

Elena gaped at him, but he pressed his lips to hers before she could challenge him on that accusation.

They were panting when he broke the kiss. He rolled onto his back and pulled her against his chest. He stroked her hair and dropped a kiss every now and then. The silence was comfortable and her eyes were getting heavy.

She pulled herself further into him, resting her leg over his thigh. "I should go back to my room," she garbled into his chest.

"No," he replied flatly. "You stay here with me."

"Hmm." Elena dozed off into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of all things crazy.


	11. Chapter 11

Elena didn't expect to open the front door this morning and found Klaus Mikaelson on the front porch.

"Damon had gone to work," she said from the doorway.

"I'm here to see you." Klaus glided, uninvited, through the opening into the front hall.

She went thoughtfully back into the house and closed the door. Klaus was already in the living room.

"I haven't been to this house for a long time," Klaus said. He went to stand at the window of the living room and looked out over the driveway. "I haven't been here since Katherine died."

"Guess it would be a little awkward," Elena admitted.

"Yes, things have changed since she died."

Klaus looked different this morning, Elena thought. No longer the suave, charming, confident businessman. More like a heart-broken man. Hurt.

"Why are you here, Klaus?" Elena asked.

"I come here to apologise. I had too much to drink last night." Klaus took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm sorry."

"Forget it. You were drunk last night."

"Still, it wasn't right. I apologize. I bet Damon was furious."

"Yes, he was but he will get over it."

Klaus rested a hand on the windowsill. "History is repeating itself, isn't it? The three of us were crazy over Katherine fifteen years ago. Fifteen years later, you come along and turn our world upside down again."

It wasn't easy but Elena managed to hold on to her temper. "I'm here to investigate my sister's death. I have never intended to distress anyone."

"Don't you understand? Your presence reminds us of Katherine. You stir up memories. Memories of her," Klaus said. "Unfortunately a lot of the memories hurt."

Elena felt her insides tighten. "I know Katherine was wrong for stringing you along. She should have figured out what she wanted and just been honest about it. But she was my sister and she was brutally killed. I won't give up my investigation."

"I know." Klaus sighed. "You want to know a little secret? I envy Damon. Back in the old days the girls somehow always couldn't resist his good looks, his style and his charm. I couldn't deny I was jealous because Katherine fell for him. And I used to blame him for Katherine's death."

Elena stilled. "I see."

"A part of me will always wonder what would have happened if Katherine had never met Damon. Who knows? Maybe she and I could have had something lasting together."

"But Katherine didn't want Damon either."

"It's because he didn't give a damn on anything. He didn't give a damn on her," Klaus said through gritted teeth.

"Katherine wanted someone Damon could never be," Elena said. She had to defend for Damon. "It's not right to change someone. If you truly care for somebody, you will accept who he is."

"You care about him, don't you?" Klaus said softly.

Elena blinked. "I, uh, I…"

"So it's true?"

"I think this conversation is getting a bit personal."

"I don't want to intrude on your personal life, Elena." Klaus hesitated and then probed further. "You think he is the right person for you?"

"Meaning?"

'Meaning," Klaus said bluntly. "Damon hasn't allowed any woman to get close enough after Katherine's death. He is sleeping with them but none of them mean anything to him because he is still pining for Katherine."

She felt her stomach tighten. "Is this where you tell me that the only thing Damon wants from me is sex?"

"I think," Klaus paused. "To be frank, you can give Damon what he always wanted, but never got, from your sister. It's an ego thing."

Elena could hardly breathe. "Are you trying to say Damon sleeps with me because of an ego thing?"

"He probably finds you attractive, too," Klaus said. "I just want you to be careful, dear. He might break your heart."

Enough of this conversation which was leading nowhere, Elena thought. "If you don't mind, I have a lot of things to do this morning, Klaus."

Klaus regarded her with an apologetic expression. "Yes, of course. Forgive me. I didn't mean to intrude on your personal life."

"Didn't you?"

"You are Katherine's sister. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Thank you but I'm an adult. I know how to take care of myself." Elena went past him and opened the front door.

"Goodbye, Elena." Klaus walked out onto the driveway and towards his Mercedes. He paused just before getting behind the wheel. "You are in love with Damon, aren't you? Lucky bastard."

Elena watched him drive away and then slowly closed the door. Get a grip, she told herself. Whatever Klaus said might not be true. She was aware of Damon's past. He wouldn't sleep with her because of his ego. He couldn't! Not after they had experienced such an all-consuming sexual union. Their appetites for each other had been insatiable and they had not been left unassuaged.

Another nasty thought invaded her mind. Lust. Men could enjoy sex while keeping their hearts and minds detached. Is that all their glorious lovemaking meant to Damon? Was he so adept at sex that he could make her believe it meant as much to him as it did to her? Were the words he passionately whispered in her ear only rehearsed recitations?

She shook her head. Damon wouldn't lie to her when he said he loved her. He couldn't kiss her like this if he didn't feel some measure of affection for her. She had to trust him.

x x x

Damon caught up with Elena and running alongside her within a few yards. She looked up to his lean loveliness. Did this man do anything badly? He ran like his upper body was disconnected from his lower body, his legs transporting his tall, lean body with ease. She was determined to keep up with him, even though his pace was a little faster than she would normally take.

She got into her stride and they ran along the street in a comfortable silence, throwing each other glances every now and then. Running in the evening was really quite relaxing. The town wasn't that crowded and there were no horns or sirens ringing in the ears. The air was surprisingly fresh and cool too.

Half an hour later, they hit the park near the town hall and followed the green lushness at a steady pace. Elena felt surprisingly good.

"Okay?" he asked on a half-smile as he looked at her.

Elena was not talking. That's a sure way to puff her out, and she was doing really well at the moment. She nodded and returned her focus on the path ahead of them, willing her muscles not to give up.

They maintained their steady pace, making their way around the park, eventually reaching The Mystic Falls Park. She glanced up again and saw a completely unaffected, virtually refreshed face and body running next to her. Okay, she was feeling it now, and she didn't know whether it was her fatigue, or the fact that the handsome man next to her was increasing his pace, but she was struggling to keep up.

Elena started to feel her lungs burning, her breath getting harder to keep steady and constant. She felt like she was pushing against a ton of bricks wedged in sand.

Oh, it was no good. She felt shattered. She detoured off of the road and into The Mystic Falls Park, collapsing, unceremoniously, onto the grass in a sweaty, overheated heap. She laid spread eagled, dragging valuable air into her overworked lungs. She didn't care that she had given up. Man, Damon could run.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on taking in deep breaths. The cool evening air invading her sprawled body was most welcome, until it was swallowed up by a hunk of leanness closing in on her from above. She opened her eyes, finding a gaze so blue and intense.

"Baby, did I wear you out?" He grinned around his words.

Jesus, he was not even broke a sweat, Elena thought. She, on the other hand, couldn't even talk. She heaved underneath him, letting him smothered her face with kisses.

"Hmmm, sweat and sex." He licked her cheek and rolled them over so she was sprawled across his stomach. She proceeded to pant and wheeze all over him as he ran his firm palms all over her sweaty back.

When she had finally got her breathing under control, she pushed her hands into his chest and straddled his hips, sitting up on his body. "I know why you like to run," Elena said. "Great way to release the tension." He placed his hands under his head, all casual and amused by her laboured breathing and sweaty face. His toned arms looked edible as they flexed. She could just about muster up the energy to lean down and take a bite.

"You are tensed today," he said on a raised brow.

"Just a bit," she grumbled, falling forward onto his chest.

His hands came around to secure her against him. "Care to tell me why are you tensed?" He traced circles across her back.

"Nothing. Just thinking about Katherine's case."

Damon sighed. "Come on, lady. We can't frolic in the grass all day."

She heaved her up from his chest and stood. She was slightly wobbly on her feet. Damon, of course, rose to his feet like a dolphin gliding across the calm ocean.

"Let's go home to have a shower. If you want to go out, we can grab dinner at the Grill. Otherwise I can cook." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and walked them out of the park.

"You want to feed me again?"

"Hmm, hmm." He winked. "I'm going to make sure that you retain a high energy level. You expend it in such a marvellous way."

She rolled her eyes and Damon laughed. As they were about to head out of the park, a Jaguar drove close to the park and stopped under an oak tree.

Esther Mikaelson got out of the car. A man got out after her. He was in his early sixties but he projected an image of wisdom and maturity far beyond his years. His thick, precision-cut, silver hair and the precision-trimmed goatee added to the impression.

"Who's that man with Esther?" Elena asked Damon. "What are they doing here?"

"Ansell," Damon answered. 'What is he doing here?"

"Ansell? Who is he?" Elena asked curiously as she watched the pair walked into the park.

"Mikael and Ansell were business partners. Apparently they were childhood friends but Ansell left Mystic Falls out of a sudden fifteen years ago. Word had it that Mikael kicked him out of the business because Ansell was too close to Esther."

"Too close?"

"Ansell had a reputation for playing it fast and loose with the ladies when he was young. Esther was Ansell's childhood sweetheart. There were rumours about Ansell sleeping with Esther."

Elena was astonished. "Esther had an affair with Ansell?"

Damon shrugged. "Both Mikael and Esther denied the rumours. They have always portraited to the town that they have a happy marriage."

"But do you believe Esther had an affair?"

"I have never thought about it. It's none of my business. But it is strange Ansell turns up in Mystic Falls out of a sudden."

"And he is seeing Esther."

Damon nodded. "In the park at this hour."

"Odd isn't it? They could meet in a café or a bar. But in the park when it is almost dark?"

"They don't want to be seen. They are afraid."

"The rumours might be true then."

There was a short silence while they contemplated those facts.

"Hold on a minute," Elena said after a while. "You said Ansell left Mystic Falls fifteen years ago?"

"That's right."

"When did he leave Mystic Falls? Did he leave before or after Katherine's death?"

Damon's brows bunched together. "What are you trying to imply?"

Elena held her breath. "Did Katherine know Ansell?"

"You think Ansell might be the man Katherine was going to meet in the woods that night?"

"I'm not sure."

There was another brief silence.

"This is all wild speculation," Damon said after a while.

"Not entirely," Elena said. "Ansell is a rich and successful businessman. He does fit the man Katherine wanted, doesn't he?"

Damon looked at her. "So what are you going to do?"

"We need to talk to Esther."


	12. Chapter 12

Damon brought his blue Camaro to a halt in the driveway of Esther Mikaelson's home. Elena examined it through the window.

The large house occupied a pricey stretch of Mystic Falls' property. Lush, green gardens framed an airy, modern structure. Two very expensive-looking vehicles of European extraction were parked outside the garage at the edge of the broad drive.

"This is amazing," she said. "The Mikaelson family is definitely one of the richest and most powerful families in Mystic Falls."

"They own heaps of properties here in Mystic Falls. They have business and properties in the entire Virginia State as well."

They got out of the Camaro and walked toward the entrance. The double front doors were lacquered in a rich, gleaming red. They opened just as Damon reached out to ring the bell.

Esther Mikaelson stood in the opening. There was also a measure of caution in her gaze.

"Damon and Miss Gilbert, please come in."

"Thank you," Elena said.

"Nice to see you, Esther," Damon smiled politely.

Esther gave him a fleeting smile. "This way, please."

Damon followed behind Elena as Esther led the way through a wide, two-story-atrium centre hall. The hall opened onto an expansive great room. The floor-to-ceiling windows captured the sweeping, panoramic view of the garden.

Esther motioned toward a pair of black lacquered chairs upholstered in tan leather. "Please sit down."

Damon turned away from the window and sat down beside Elena.

"Thanks for agreeing to see us on such short notice," Elena said.

Esther lowered herself to the cushions of a black leather sofa and leaned back into the corner with negligent ease. "I must admit, I was surprised when Damon called me yesterday asking for a meeting. I guess it must be your idea, isn't it, Miss Gilbert?"

Elena glanced at Damon and then clasped her hands loosely between her knees.

"I want to talk to you, Esther," Elena said.

"As I recall, you were upset during our last conversation," Esther mocked. "I thought you didn't like to hear my opinion on Katherine."

Elena's jaw tightened. "I'm not here to talk about Katherine."

"What did you want to talk about?" Esther asked.

Elena looked at her. "Tell me about Ansell."

The blood drained from Esther's face. She swallowed twice before she managed to speak.

"You have been listening to some silly rumours, Counsellor," Esther stammered. "They are rumours. You shouldn't believe them."

"Are they rumours?" Elena asked.

"Ansell and I have known each other since childhood. We are friends," Esther explained. "I have a happy marriage and family."

"I don't believe you," Damon said.

Esther watched him warily. "Why not?"

"We saw you and Ansell in the park last evening," Damon said.

Esther went still. "Are you following me?" Then rage infused her face. "How ridiculous! What have I done? You have no rights to do so."

"Why is Ansell back?" Damon asked. "He left fifteen years ago. What makes him come back to Mystic Falls?"

"That's none of your business," Esther answered as she stood up. "You two need to leave. Get out."

Damon got up from his chair. "Esther, we come here today for some information on Ansell. I hope you can help us."

"I said, get out of here," Esther raised her voice.

"Nobody would know you were with Ansell yesterday if you tell me what I want to know," Elena said as she rose from her seat.

Esther was clearly nervous. "Is this a threat?"

"Was Ansell seeing Katherine before she died?" Damon asked.

Esther flinched. "What do you mean?"

"You are aware of Ansell's reputation. He has a history of sneaking around. Was he seeing my sister fifteen years ago?" Elena asked.

Esther's eyes widened. "What are you saying?"

"I was pretty sure Katherine was seeing someone at that time," Damon said. "I thought it was Klaus but I was wrong. It was Ansell, wasn't it?"

"These are all wild guesses and assumptions," Esther said, her voice tight with fury. "Ansell is old enough to be Katherine's father."

"But that doesn't mean Ansell wasn't interested," Damon said.

Elena agreed with him. "Katherine was pretty and she held the title of Miss Mystic Falls. Ansell could have easily fallen for her."

"Ansell would never fall for Katherine," Esther snarled. "Now, you two need to leave."

Elena ignored her. "Where's Ansell? I want to see him."

"You two are crazy," Esther said.

"Where is Ansell?" Damon asked. "Is he still in Mystic Falls?"

"Why do you want to see Ansell? What do you want?" Esther cried out.

"I need to know what happened between Ansell and my sister," Elena said.

"For God sake! There was nothing between Ansell and Katherine," Esther exclaimed.

"How do you know?" Damon asked. "Did Ansell tell you? You two still keep in contact all these years?"

Esther's jaw hardened. "It's really none of your business, is it?" She walked past them, turned and looked back. "Get out before I ask my bodyguards to throw you two out of here."

Back in the car, Elena slouched deep into the passenger seat, one foot braced against the dashboard, arms folded tightly around her middle. She glanced at Damon.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked.

"Esther is lying. There must be something going on between Ansell and Katherine," Damon said. He did not take his attention off the road. "Yeah, that's what I'm thinking."

"Do you think Katherine was in love with him?"

"Who knows?" Damon said again. "Ansell certainly fit the criteria."

"If Katherine was seeing Ansell, why would he kill her?"

"Maybe he found out she was fooling around and he was angry?"

Elena shook her head. "That's doesn't make sense. Ansell has such bad reputation with women and none of them last long with him. Do you think he would kill because one of his women was seeing another man?"

"You are right," Damon said. "He was having fun with Katherine. It probably didn't mean a thing to him."

She scrunched lower into the seat. "If Ansell was the killer, what was his motive?"

Damon turned right into the long lane that led to his house. "Maybe Katherine found out he was fooling around and she was angry. They had an argument and somehow Ansell accidentally killed her."

Elena groaned. "She was stabbed multiple times. Do you think it was an accident? You are a cop. You are supposed to be good at this, Sergeant."

"Are you questioning my professionalism?" Damon said. He brought his Camaro to a halt.

"No, I'm not." Elena unfastened her seat belt and popped open the door. "There are too many unanswered questions in this case."

"If Ansell was having an affair of Katherine, the question is why Ansell would kill Katherine just to keep her quiet about their affair? Ansell is never discreet about his affairs."

Elena paused halfway out of the front seat. "What are you trying to say?"

"You said Katherine had plans to go to Paris."

"Mrs Gibson told me that."

"Katherine was a high school student. How could she afford to go to Paris?"

"Maybe she had some cash stashed away?"

"Who gave her the cash?"

Elena took a deep breath. "Ansell."

"But Ansell wouldn't kill her because of the money. Ansell is rich. I bet he had paid money to get rid some of the women he had affairs with."

"Unless Katherine was asking for a lot of money."

"I still don't believe Ansell would kill Katherine because of money."

"Why not?" Elena argued. "Maybe she was greedy. She asked for heaps of money and Ansell was pissed off."

"Ansell is a multi-millionaire and he is a successful businessman. You think he would have committed murder because Katherine asked for heaps of money? We are talking about murder here. It will destroy him. I don't think Ansell is that stupid."

"Come on, Damon. You want possibilities? Maybe Katherine had something that could destroy Ansell. For example, nude photographs or videos. Ansell might be afraid that his reputation would be damaged because of these things."

Damon sank deeper into the leather seat. "You're right. A long list of possibilities."

"Katherine was murdered by someone she was attempting to blackmail. She was trying to blackmail Ansell."

"You are making a huge assumption here," Damon said.

Elena did not move. She just looked at Damon with her knowing eyes.

He got a cold feeling in his gut. "What are you thinking?"

But he was pretty sure he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"You are in law enforcement," she said quietly. "You can use your connection to find Ansell. We need to find Ansell. We need to talk to him."

x x x

"Do you want some water? Or do you want something stronger?" Damon strolled over to the huge, black fridge and pulled it open.

"Water," Elena joined him in the kitchen area, pulling out a wooden chair from under the kitchen table. Damon removed his leather jacket and perched on the adjacent chair, turning to face her and handing her a glass of water before he unscrewed the cap of a bottle for himself. His long, muscled legs were straining against his trousers, his feet flat on the floor, but his legs considerably bent, considering the height of the chair.

He sipped his water, looking at her over the bottle, while she fiddled with her glass. He placed his bottle down before he took the glass from her hand and put it on the kitchen table. Grasping the seat of her chair, he dragged it closer to his, turning it to face him, resting his palms on her knees. He leaned in. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Just frustrated," she answered honestly.

"We will find Ansell, Elena. If he is still in Mystic Falls, he won't be able to hide himself long, we will definitely find him."

"What if he has left Mystic Falls?"

"We will go to Hampton. Ansell's company is in Hampton. We will look for him in Hampton."

"Thank you," she said softly. "But I'm sorry for dragging you into the situation."

"Whatever you do, do not say you are sorry," he said. "I'm doing this for my own reasons."

She managed a misty smile. "I know. You are doing this because of Katherine."

"No, I'm doing it at least in part because I've got a few questions about what really happened to Katherine, too. But I think I should make something very clear."

"What's that?"

"Mostly I'm doing this because of you."

She was not sure how to respond to that, but it didn't matter. She sighed.

"Are you sure you are okay?"

"I don't' know."

"Yes, you do. Tell me."

Elena considered what she should say, while his eyes probed hers, waiting for her to answer. The light crease appeared across his brow, and she realised now that it's a concentration slash concern frown.

She drew a shaky breath. "I'm beginning to wonder who was the real Katherine Pierce. I don't seem to know who she was. You know how much I idolised her. She was like the perfect sister in the world." She gave a dry, derisive laugh. "Nobody ever guessed how jealous I was of her."

"You were jealous of her?"

She nodded. "She was smart, beautiful and confident. I was the complete opposite. I was very shy when I was a child. I didn't have a lot of friends in school." The tears shimmering in her eyes made Damon's heart ached. "It is so hard to hear about all these bad things about Katherine. She was supposed to be flawless."

"Nobody is perfect."

"I know."

"We love people in spite of what they are, not because of what they are. At least, that's the way it should be."

"Probably," she looked away from him. "You loved Katherine, no matter what she did and how much she hurt you. You still loved her."

Damon was annoyed. "Is that what you think?"

She recoiled slightly when he grabbed her jaw and tugged her face back to his. He was gritting his teeth.

"What did you want me to say?" she asked.

He released her jaw, letting out a frustrated sigh, and before she knew what hit her, he grabbed her and tossed her onto the kitchen table, sending the glass of water crashing to the tiled floor. The glass shattered loudly around them. Her legs were spread with his thighs, and he attacked her mouth with his inexorable tongue, plunging deep and meaningfully.

Elena was slightly taken aback by his impulsive assault, but she was powerless to stop him, in physical strength and in mental strength. She was instantly plagued by blazing goose bumps and hot wetness at her core, as he thrusted his hips hard while consuming her mouth. He cupped her bum, pulling her closer, keeping his groin tight against her.

She groaned as his hips rolled, unashamed for him to know that she was turned on like a thousand-watt light bulb. Releasing her lips, he stared at her, breathing hard with brazen hunger shining from his blue pools. She was certain her eyes were matching his.

"Let's establish some things here," he panted through short breaths. He pulled her off of the table so she was straddling his waist. He stared at her. "Katherine was past tense."

He leaned in and kissed her lips, softly stroking her tongue with his. "I love you, Elena." He rolled his hips, causing her to shift upwards and tense to relieve herself of the relentless buzzing at her core. They were face to face. "I don't want Katherine. You are the one I want now," he informed her on a thrust of his hips.

She closed her arms around his shoulders and kissed him on his lush, moist lips. She was desperate for him all over again.

"I'm going to possess every single part of you," He punctuated each word clearly and sharply. "There will be nowhere on this beautiful body that won't have had me in it, on it or over it." His voice was carnal and deadly serious, which only served to increase her heart rate a little more.

She was lowered to her feet and he yanked the zipper of her denims down. Then she was spun around before her tank top and her bra were removed and tossed aside.

Leaning down, he kissed the nape of her exposed neck, blowing his breath across it, instigating a delightful shiver from the mixture of heat from his tongue and the coolness of his breath. Christ, she was buzzing all over. She flexed her neck, rolling her shoulder blades to alleviate the tingles that were riddling her entire body.

He moved his mouth to her ear. "Face me."

Elena did as she was told, turning back around to look at him, finding an expression of pure determination as he lifted her back onto the kitchen table. She rested her hands on his shoulders, but he grasped them, and she reluctantly let him guide them down to the table so she was gripping the edge.

"The hands stay here," he said firmly as he released them, backing up his demand with that confident tone. He hooked his fingers in the top of her knickers and tugged at them. "Lift."

She pushed her weight onto her arms, lifting her backside off of the table so he could draw them down her legs, lowering herself back down when she was free from the constraints of her underwear. She was stark naked, and he was still fully dressed.

Elena pouted. "This is not fair. I want to see you. I want to feel you."

He smiled as he pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She ran her eyes over his perfect physic, her mouth was watering. This man was gorgeous.

He positioned himself back between her legs and she had to fight the urge to grab him. The pressure on her core had her shifting on the table to ease the immense spasms searing through her. And he was not unaffected himself. His huge erection was straining against the front of his trousers, pressing hard into her thigh.

He rested his hands so they spanned the tops of her legs, his thumbs on her inner thigh slowly circling, millimetres from her aching core. Elena was raw with pure lust, her rapid breathing becoming increasingly difficult to regulate.

He squeezed her thighs. "Where to start?" he mused, lifting one hand and running his thumb across her bottom lip. "Here?" he asked. Her lips parted. He watched her as he slid his thumb into her mouth, and she circled it with her tongue, his lips lifting at the corners in a diminutive smile. He withdrew his thumb, running it across her cheek, then, very slowly, he stroke his flat palm down her neck and onto her chest before cupping her breast possessively. "Or here?" His husky voice was betraying his calm façade as he raised a questioning eyebrow at her, circling her nipple with his thumb. She gasped.

"These are mine." He gently kneaded her breast for a few moments before recommencing his hand stroke down her sensitive skin. He spent a few seconds making big circles on her stomach before he continued downwards. As the heat of his hand reached the inside of her thigh, Elena forced herself to breathe. She was struggling and feeling dizzy with lust.

Just when she thought he was going to claim her with his fingers, he swiftly changed direction, running his hand around her hip, causing her to jerk. He cupped her arse.

"Or here?" He was completely serious. She went rigid. "Every single inch, Elena," he breathed. She was holding her breath, her lungs burning, as he smiled a little, his hand starting to drift back around to her front. "I think I'll start here."

He tapped his finger under her chin so she was forced to look up into his sludgy eyes.

"But I did mean every inch," he affirmed coolly, before placing his hand on the table besides her thigh, his other hand moved to touch her core.

She felt Damon's finger ran up the centre of her core, generating flashes of pleasure that jet off in a million different directions around her body. She slumped forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder as her upper body rolled up and down in time to her thumping heartbeat.

"You are drenched," he rumbled low in her ear as he plunged a finger into her. She immediately tightened her muscles around it. "You want me," he stated firmly, withdrawing and spreading the wetness over her clitoris before surging forward again with two fingers.

She cried out.

"Tell me you want me, Elena."

"I want you," she panted against his shoulder.

She heard a groan of satisfaction. "Tell me you need me."

She would tell him anything he wanted to hear at this point – absolutely anything. "I need you."

He withdrew his fingers from hers and pulled her down from the table, turning her slowly in his arms.

"Damon…" she moaned.

She felt his body closing in on her, the heat pouring out of him and into her. When the firmness of his chest pressed up against here back, she leaned on him, the back of her head resting on his shoulder.

He turned his mouth into her ear. "I love you, Elena." He pushed his hips into the small of her back and slowly grind into her as he reached forward, placing his hands on her wrists. "Don't you ever forget that."

He began a slow, languid jaunt up her arms with his talented fingers, leaving her skin prickling in their wake, spreading fire through her veins. Her breasts ached for his touch as he reached the tops of her arms and moved onto her shoulders. She clamped her lips together, but a moan escaped. She couldn't help it, not when he was making her feel like this.

His hands spanned her shoulders entirely, and he began circling his thumbs into the base of her neck, working out the stiffness that was looming there. The feeling was out of this world. Her body was relaxed and her mind serene.

Lowering his mouth to her neck, he brushed his lips over her skin before kissing her gently. "Your skin is addictive."

"Hmmm," she purred.

He laughed softly. "This good?" he asked, trailing feather soft kisses up and down her jaw. She turned her face in towards him, meeting him square in the eye. She nodded again.

He soaked up her gaze for a few seconds, his expression contented, before planting a soft kiss on her lips and letting his hands work their way down to her hips. She clenched her eyes shut, trying her hardest not to jolt forward.

"I want you in my bed now," he said against her skin, the vibration of his lips sending tremors of pleasure straight to her core.

He released his hold of her, caught her hand and together they dashed up the stairs to his room. He tumbled her onto her back on the bed and came down on top of her, bracing himself on his hands.

"You should never be jealous of Katherine. You are so lovely," he marvelled.

She smiled. "I don't know about lovely, but when you look at me like that, I definitely feel hot."

"That, too." He kissed one pink nipple. "Very, very hot."

"And you are a very, very hot too, Sergeant."

He got out of his trousers and grabbed a condom from the nightstand. He lowered himself back down onto her, inserting his leg between hers, separating her thighs. The scent of her arousal hardened every muscle in his body. He moved his hand down her hip and then to her hot, warm core.

He groaned, pulling on all of his willpower to keep himself from coming then and there.

He put his mouth on the soft skin of her shoulder and bit gently. "I love how you get so wet so fast for me."

He stroked her, finding the trigger spots that he had learned in the course of their first night together. She clenched herself around the two fingers he had inside her. He probed gently, deliberately. She sucked in her breath. Her nails bit into his shoulders.

"There," she got out. "Yes, there."

He gave a hoarse laugh. He used his mouth on her, starting with her breasts and moving lower and lower until she gasped and clutched at his head, snagging her fingers in his hair.

"Damon," she shrieked. She was already climaxing. He could feel the delicate waves shivering through her lower body, taste the essence of her.

When it was over she collapsed, laughing, breathless, blushing.

"That was amazing," she said, sounding and looking stunned. "Absolutely amazing."

"You are delicious," he said. He kissed her shoulder. "Everywhere. I like it when you scream my name the way you did just then. I like it a lot."

She used her palms to push him slightly away from her.

"Show me what you like," she said.

Curiosity and determination illuminated her eyes.

He smiled slowly. "Trust me, I like everything you do to me."

"I'm serious. I want to know what works for you—what really works."

She slipped her palm down the front of his chest and captured him in her hand. She pumped him slowly, tightening her fingers until he thought he would go a little mad.

"That works," he managed, his voice suddenly tight. "That definitely works."

She giggled, rolled him onto his back and kissed his throat, his chest, and then she went lower. When he felt her tongue on him, he knew he had reached the breaking point.

"Now," he said. "I need to be inside you right now."

He caught hold of her arms and pulled her back up his body so that she sat astride him. He used one hand to guide himself into her, holding his breath while he strained violently against his own self-imposed control.

Then he was surging deep into her snug, wet heat. She tried to glide up and down on him, but he caught her hips, forcing her to let him set the rhythm. She tightened herself around him. So tight. Impossibly tight. He could not take any more.

His climax hit him in a shattering rush. He abandoned himself to the tide and let it sweep him out to sea.


	13. Chapter 13

It was all falling apart.

The carefully conceived plan was going to crash and burn, he thought. Hell, it was supposed to be flawless. So what had gone wrong?

He swallowed some of the vodka and orange juice he had mixed for himself and went to stand at the window. He had to do something to fix it.

It was Elena Gilbert's fault. He knew it. She shouldn't be here. She would soon regret she was ever born.

There was another problem. Damon Salvatore. He had to go as well.

x x x

The cell phone woke Elena the following morning. Wincing at its shrill ring, she kept her face buried in the pillow and groped blindly beside the bed.

"Hello?" she said, trying to force the sleep from her voice.

"You better stop now," came a strange mechanical voice over the line, its monotone oddly distorted and tinny. "Or you will be sorry."

"Who are you?"

Elena was now fully awake. She gripped her cell phone, unable to move – paralysed by the significance of that message.

But there was no reply, nothing but the hollow sound indicating the connection had been broken. Who was doing this? Esther? Or was it Ansell?

Wearing a towel and a grin, Damon strolled out of the bathroom but his grin vanished when he saw her expression.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She did not want to go into it just now. It might be a prank call. She didn't want Damon to worry.

"Who's calling?" Damon sat down on the edge of the bed. His face was full of concern.

"Wrong number."

He watched her silently for a moment. Could she bluff her way through this? He probably didn't believe her but she had to try.

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine...I'm just thinking about Ansell."

"Well, today is your lucky day, Counsellor." He winked before planting a kiss on her bare shoulder.

"What do you mean?" Elena said. She looked intrigued.

"I just found out tonight is the 10th anniversary of Ansell's company in Hampton." He smiled. "Fancy a road trip to Hampton this morning?"

She looked pleased. "What's your plan, Sergeant?"

"It's only an hour drive to Hampton from here. We can grab some breakfast before we go. Then we will go shopping in Hampton?"

She looked at him, surprised. "Shopping?"

"Hmm, hmm. There is a reception tonight." Damon looked at Elena. "I need a date for the evening. Are you willing to be my date, Elena?"

"You are planning to meet Ansell in his company's anniversary reception?"

"I'm pretty confident he will be there tonight. So you need to find something to wear tonight. Dress code is formal."

A grin appeared on her face. "This should be interesting."

x x x

Damon stood at the foot of the inn's staircase and watched Elena come down to meet him. How he wished this was a date. He would take her out on a date when this investigation was over, he told himself. But would she stay in Mystic Falls after the investigation was over? She had a job in Richmond. Would she give up everything she had in Richmond and stay in Mystic Falls?

They had to talk after the investigation was over. They needed to talk about their future.

She seemed to float down the stairs in a black strappy front dress that stopped just above her knees. She wore a pair of black high heel sandals and a tiny cross-body purse that looked barely large enough to hold a cell phone and a credit card. Her jewellery consisted of a pair of dainty gold earrings and a small bracelet composed of gold links. There was nothing flashy or showy about the outfit, but somehow it all went together to give her an aura of cool, feminine confidence.

"You look beautiful," Damon said. He smiled.

"Thanks," Elena did a little pirouette. "It certainly makes me feel nice."

"It will be nicer if this is truly a date."

She blinked. Did Damon mention about a date?

He opened the door and steered her out into the summer evening. Then he popped the locks on the blue Camaro sitting in front of the entrance.

"This isn't a date, Damon. We have things to do tonight."

"I know." He opened the door on the passenger side and watched her slip into the front seat. "But I have to admit I fancy taking you out on a date."

Elena shot him a glance but did not say anything.

Damn. Did he screw it up?

He made an effort to tamp down the heat and closed the door very firmly. He walked around to the driver's side and got behind the wheel.

"The date. You are serious about it, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes." He fired up the engine and reversed out of the parking slot.

He heard Elena's phone chirp. He breathed a small sigh of relief, grateful for the interruption. He had a feeling that once Elena got on a man's case and started asking questions she wouldn't let go easily.

She took the device out of the tiny purse and checked the screen. She inserted the phone back into the small bag.

"It's Wes," she said.

"Is he checking up on you?"

"He is trying to tell me I don't have much time left. I need to go back to Richmond as soon as possible."

Suddenly, he was no longer feeling so grateful for the interruption.

"Is that so?" He realized he was speaking between set teeth. "When do you have to go back?"

"End of this month."

He willed himself to remain calm.

"Can't extend your stay?" he asked.

"No."

"Your job is waiting for you."

"Yes. Wes can only spare me thirty days to come up with something without jeopardising the work in the office. I have to give up on this case if I couldn't come up with anything."

"But you won't give up."

"No, I won't."

Time to change the subject.

"Do we have a plan for this evening?" he asked.

"Not exactly." Elena glanced at him. "I consider this party to be an intelligence-gathering mission."

"Intelligence is not the first word that comes to my mind. By all accounts, Ansell bear a striking resemblance to a snake. If we had any sense we would steer clear."

"Look at it this way," Elena said. "It's an opportunity to gather additional information on the relationship of Ansell and Katherine."

"You really think Ansell killed Katherine, don't you?"

"I'm not absolutely positive about that yet, but the fact that Ansell left Mystic Falls as soon as Katherine died just strikes me as too much of a coincidence."

"I take your point on this," he agreed. "But there's something you need to keep in mind here—we still don't understand the motive behind Katherine's death. Why Katherine had to die?"

"Katherine was trying to blackmail Ansell."

"You think so?" He raised his eyebrows. "I'm still not convinced Ansell would kill Katherine just to keep her quiet about their affair."

"What if Katherine knew about Ansell and Esther?"

"Are you implying that Katherine was killed because she knew something about Ansell and Esther?"

"It's a possibility, isn't it?" she asked. "Esther's marriage would be destroyed if Katherine exposed their affair."

"You are making an assumption."

"I don't think this is an assumption. I believe we are heading the right direction. Katherine found out about Ansell and Esther. She tried to blackmail Ansell, so she was killed by him."

"Or her," Damon said.

"What?"

"You referred to the killer as he. Women kill, too."

Elena held her breath. "Esther."

He tightened his hands on the wheel. "She might be the person who damaged your car the other day."

A chill went through Elena. She remembered the phone call in the morning. "Damon," she said nervously. "I got a phone call telling me…" She stopped, catching the edge of panic in her voice, and started again, forcing calmness. "Telling me that I have to stop now or I will be sorry."

"What?" Damon sounded as stunned as she had been. "Who was the call from?"

"I don't know."

"Is it a man's voice? A woman's?"

"It's a robot's," she replied and laughed nervously, trying to shake off her fear.

"What? Be serious, Elena."

"I am. Somebody is using some sort of voice synthesiser to make the threatening call."

"Dammit, Elena, why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I don't want you to worry. I thought it was a prank call…"

"Jesus! This is really getting out of hand. You are in danger. I can't let you do this anymore."

"No!" Elena panicked. "I can't stop. I need to find out the truth."

"Your life is endangered. I can't let anything happen to you." Damon raised his voice.

"I'm not stopping the investigation. I won't and you can't stop me."

He almost yelled at her. "You are so stubborn."

"I'm not repeating myself anymore," she hissed. "I won't give up this investigation."

Damon cursed silently. He knew he couldn't change her mind. "It's dangerous, Elena."

"I know," Elena said. "But I owe this to Katherine. I want justice for her."

He did not say anything for a long moment. Then he exhaled slowly.

"I understand," he said.

She smiled faintly. "I know you do."

She sat quietly, watching the road through the windshield. He could feel the determination coming off her in waves. Nothing was going to stop her. There was no point arguing with her.

He drove through the centre of town, passing the little boutiques and the small, crowded restaurants that fronted the tree-shaded square.

"You asked me about the date just now," he said after a while.

"Yes?"

"I want to take you out on a date."

Joy flow through her. "Seriously?"

Damon shot her a glance. "Do I look like I'm joking?" He gave her his slow smile, showing just a hint of teeth. "I don't joke on things like that."

Elena felt the laughter bubble up inside. "Yes, of course," she gasped between giggles. "What do you have in mind?"

Damon shifted gears for the turn onto Hampton Road.

"Well, there is a small town which is about half an hour drive from Mystic Falls. It's near Dunham Lake. Beautiful view. We could visit the museums and art galleries in the town and then have a nice lunch. There are quite a few nice cafes in the town. After that we could stroll along the lake. We could even rent a lakehouse nearby for the night."

"You got it all figured out, don't you?"

He shrugged. "A guy always has to be ready."

"Did you bring Katherine to Dunham Lake?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It had never crossed my mind."

"What?"

"Believe it or not," Damon said. "I have never thought about taking Katherine out on a date. But you are different. I want to take you out on a date."

Elena gave him a long, considering look. Then she smiled.

"I like the idea," she said. "A date sounds fantastic."

x x x

The Hampton hotel was an artful reproduction of an old-world Mediterranean villa. It sat on a tree-studded hillside and commanded views of the vineyards and the river. The reception was held in the grand ballroom, a richly panelled space decorated in sunburnt hues of ochre and dark red. A wall of French doors had been opened to allow the party to spill out onto a broad terrace.

Damon was not surprised by the size of the crowd. Ansell was one of the successful businessmen in Hampton. He was talking to a group of middle-aged men dressed in suits and ties.

"That's Ansell," Elena said.

"Let's go," Damon said.

They came to a halt at the fringes of the small group gathered around Ansell. Ansell seemed surprised to see them but he covered his surprise quickly with a smile.

"Gentlemen, I'm so sorry to interrupt," Elena said, not sounding sorry at all, "We would like to have a word with you, Ansell."

"Alone," Damon added.

"Damon Salvatore?" Ansell switched his gaze to Damon. "You are Giuseppe's eldest son, aren't you?"

"The one and only," Damon answered.

"I know your father and your uncle. But I haven't seen them for quite a long time." Ansell's smile returned. "I hope they are keeping themselves well."

"They are well. Thank you," Damon said. "Shall we go somewhere we can have a talk?"

"Sure. Gentlemen, please excuse us," Ansell murmured. He led the way through the crowd toward the long, polished bar. Elena followed. Damon fell into step directly behind her, staying close. There was something both intimate and protective about the way he made it clear that he was with her tonight.

She got a little thrill from knowing that he was close enough to touch. She had liked it earlier when he had wrapped his powerful hand around her arm to walk her to the car. She had liked it a lot. She liked the scent of him as well. The clean, masculine tang was infused with just a hint of aftershave.

He stood out in the crowd—at least he stood out to her. It was a good bet that many of the other male guests in the room wielded the kind of power that came with money and social and political connections. But Damon possessed a different kind of power. It wasn't just physical, she thought. It was the kind of strength that you could depend on at crunch time. The steel in Damon had been infused with old-fashioned virtues such as honour and courage and determination. He was the kind of man who would always take full responsibility for his actions. Even as a teen she had been able to sense that inner fortitude in him. What was true back then was even truer now.

She knew from the manner in which some of the other guests surreptitiously studied him that most of them had gotten the message. You did not want to mess with Damon Salvatore.

Several of the men surveyed him with a calculating air. She suspected that they were busily assuring themselves that in spite of what their instincts were telling them, their money and connections ensured that they held a superior status in the room. The women in the crowd viewed Damon in an entirely different manner. Elena caught expressions that ranged from curiosity to discreetly veiled sexual interest.

There was no doubt Damon could make any red-blooded women went crazy. His scent, his heat, his touch, that sinful mouth. It was everything every woman could have possibly dreamed and more. Elena smiled to herself.

Damon gave her a sharp look. "What?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "Just a fleeting thought. Forget it."

Ansell stopped at the long bar and spoke to one of the two women who were wearing catering uniform.

"Can we have some wine for the guests?" Ansell said politely.

"Sure," smiling, the woman poured two glasses of the red wine. "Enjoy your night, sir."

Ansell turned his gaze to Elena. "I don't believe we have met. I usually don't forget a beautiful face like this."

For the first time Elena got a good look at him. Ansell was classically suave, slick and sophisticated. These traits could certainly explain his reputation with women, she thought.

"I'm Elena Gilbert. Katherine Pierce was my sister."

"Katherine Pierce," Ansell said. His expression turned abruptly sombre. "I vaguely remember the name. I did not know her, but I heard it was a tragic. She was murdered, wasn't she?"

Elena did not believe him. "You didn't know Katherine?"

"I hardly know the Pierce's family. I wasn't even aware Katherine had a sister until today." Ansell fixed them an intent look. "Why are you two here today?"

"We just had a couple of questions," Damon said swiftly.

"Such as?" Ansell paused ever so briefly. "I hate to remind you, tonight is very important to my company and I don't appreciate any trouble."

Elena's temper kicked in. "We are not here to create any trouble. We are here to get some answers from you."

Ansell's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean? Don't tell me you think I had anything to do with Katherine's death. This is absolutely ridiculous."

Damon stepped quickly between Ansell and her. "I'm sure you don't want a scene, Ansell. Just tell us about what happened between Katherine and you."

Ansell looked at him, stunned. "I have no idea what are you talking about. I did not know the girl."

Elena's face was suffused with an angry red colour. "You are lying, Ansell. Damn it. I know you killed her. You killed Katherine."

Ansell's eyes widened. "I killed Katherine? Oh my god! Where did that come from? How dare you accuse me of murder?"

"Katherine knew about your affair with Esther. You were afraid she would expose your secret." She stabbed her finger against his elegantly knotted white silk tie. "You killed her because she was trying to blackmail you."

"This is absolutely crazy!" Ansell's voice was choked with outrage. "I didn't kill her. I didn't even know her. I wasn't aware that she knew about my relationship with Esther."

Damon caught his breath. But Elena's turbocharger switch suddenly tripped and her temper went into overdrive. She stepped forward. "You are a liar, Ansell. You killed my sister and you tried to kill me because I came back to investigate her death."

Ansell's eyes bulged. "What!? I tried to kill you? This is nonsense. I don't know you at all. Why would I kill you?"

Damon seized Elena's arm. "That's enough, Elena. People are staring. We do not want to cause a scene."

Elena shot him a deadly look. But Damon ignored her. He looked at Ansell instead. "Where were you that night when Katherine was killed?"

Ansell cleared his throat. "I was at Logan Fell's house warming party that night. Richard Lockwood and his wife could be my witness. Logan's wife, Meredith could also be my witness."

"I don't believe you," Elena said through gritted teeth.

"You can check it out," Ansell said forcefully. "I didn't kill Katherine. I'm innocent."


	14. Chapter 14

Elena got out of the car and stormed toward the hotel room. Damon followed her into the room and closed the door behind him.

"You okay?"

A vein in her forehead was pulsing. Her hands were clenched at her sides. "Ansell is lying. I know he is lying."

"You have to calm down, Elena."

"You want me to calm down?" she exclaimed. "How am I supposed to calm down? Ansell killed Katherine. I know he did."

"Elena, stop it!"

"I'm not going to let him run away this time. I have to stop him." She strode past him and yanked open the door but Damon grabbed hold of her wrist and spun her around.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not going to let Ansell run away." She tried to wrest her hands free. "He has to pay for the crime he had committed."

"You can't, Elena. You need to calm down."

"You can't stop me. Let go of me!"

She fought like a wildcat. Fury and adrenalin pumped through her system, endowing her with additional strength. She was still no match for him. Holding her wrists together in his left hand, he shoved her back inside the room and kicked the door shut.

She bucked against him, shouting deprecations, trying to work her hands out of his grip, slinging her head from side to side like someone demented.

'Elena, stop it," he ordered fiercely.

"Let go of me!"

"Calm down, Elena!"

"No!"

He forced her down on the bed, and secured her there with his own body. Keeping an iron grip on her wrists, he bore down on her. "Listen to me, Elena. I know you are angry and upset. But it is not going to help with this case if you behave like this."

Her eyes were murderous as she glared at him. "You don't believe it was Ansell who killed Katherine, do you?"

"I don't trust him, Elena but just think, would he lie over something so easily checked?" he stared deeply into her eyes. "I promise you I will help you with this investigation and I won't give up until we find out the truth."

"I feel so useless, Damon," Elena whimpered, clamping her teeth over her lower lip and turning her face into the pillow. "I feel I have let Katherine down. I know I have let her down."

"Shh, don't cry." He brushed his fingers against her jaw. "You are doing your best. I know it. You won't let her down. You haven't, okay?"

"Damon..."

He pushed himself up. "Why don't you have a shower? I will grab us something to eat. There is burger shop around the corner."

She nodded and got up. "I'm not hungry. A coffee will be enough."

"You need to eat. You are skinny."

Her eyes widened. "Skinny?"

Curving his arm around her shoulders, he drew her close and whispered against her hair. "Skinny but just nice for me to hold on to."

Elena didn't know whether to laugh or to argue back. "Whatever."

Damon laughed softly before he walked out of the room and closed the door.

x x x

Damon was a block and a half from the hotel when he heard the footsteps behind him. He thought it was a jogger out ruining their knees, even at this late hour. He moved to the edge of the path, giving the runner plenty of room.

The echo of the pounding steps got louder. A moment later a young man galloped past. A nearby lamp gleamed briefly on his running shoes and lower legs. The rest of his body was in darkness.

The young man vanished into the night. The sound of his footfalls faded into nothingness. Silence flowed back, swirling together with the darkness.

Footfalls sounded behind him. Another jogger, one who had decided to cheat and take the shortcut to the other side of the city. The thud-thuds were heavier, not quite in sync, as if the guy was struggling to keep the rhythm going. Maybe his knees hurt.

Damon became aware of the runner's heavy breathing. He could hear audible gulps of air. As he listened, the pattern of the footfalls altered. They were more closely spaced. Picking up speed.

Closing the distance.

Don't look back, Damon said to himself. Something may be gaining on you.

The thuds were coming very swiftly now. The runner was really sucking air, preparing for an even greater burst of speed. Working himself up for a major push. This guy sounded as if he was calling on all of his resources to make it past an invisible finish line.

The runner was almost upon him.

The hell with it. The only thing worse than looking nervous was looking like a victim.

Damon stopped, turned and stepped back toward the side of the road, giving the runner plenty of room. His fingers tightened around the plastic bag containing the burgers and fries.

A dark shadow exploded out of the dark. There was something wrong with his posture. Both arms were raised in an unnatural manner. He clutched a long object.

The runner grunted, an incoherent cry, and swung the object downward the way a butcher swings a cleaver.

Damon yanked the plastic bag. He raised it, simultaneously shifting sideways along the path.

The runner's club struck the plastic bag instead of Damon's head. The runner, propelled by his own momentum, kept going for a few paces before pulling up abruptly. He spun around, sucked in more air and started back toward his target at full speed.

The broad head at the end of the long object in the man's hand glinted briefly in the low light.

A golf club.

Even as he identified the assault weapon, Damon threw himself forward, plastic bag raised again to block the club. The move was reflexive. He did not have much choice in the matter of tactics.

Before another heartbeat, Damon flung himself at the runner. He drove one shoulder into the other man's midsection, taking both of them down. They went down with a stunning thud, the runner on the bottom. He struggled wildly, fighting back with a reckless fury, completely out of control. He hammered the floor with his heels and managed to slam a fist into Damon's ribs. He twisted violently, trying to lurch free.

Damon finally pinned him to the rug, using his weight to force him to lie still.

"Who are you?" Damon tightened his hands on the runner's shoulders. "Why do you attack me?"

"Please, please, please. Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me," The runner pleaded. "I just need some cash…"

"Is everything okay here?" Someone came towards them.

Damon looked up. "Call 911."

Half an hour later he stood with one of the police officers from Hampton Police Department.

"Got an ID?" Damon asked.

"His name is Brett Cowan. No job, no family. Spent two years in jail because of burglaries." The officer looked at Damon. "He is just unlucky to attack a police officer. Wrong target obviously."

Damon looked thoughtful. "Yeah, bad luck."

It was shortly before midnight before he returned to the hotel. Relief swept through Elena when she saw Damon on the doorstep.

"Where have you been? Are you okay?" she asked. "I tried to call you but it went straight to voicemail…"

Then she saw the dark stains on his shirt.

"Oh, my God." She gaped at him. "Damon. Is that blood on your shirt?"

He looked down, face twisting with irritation. "Bastard. Cut my elbow. This was a new shirt."

"What happened? Are you all right?" Stupid question. He was very clearly not all right.

"Accident along the way back. Long story but don't worry, nothing's broken."

He came through the doorway, moving stiffly, and stopped in the hall. She finally got a good look at him in the overhead light. There was a bad scrape on his left elbow, his knuckles were raw and his hair was badly mussed. His jacket, trousers and shirt were stained with dirt and blood; his shirttails hung loose.

She closed the door very carefully, locked it and turned around.

"Damon, what happened to you?"

"Ran into a jogger." He caught sight of himself in the hall mirror and winced. "Damn. I need to clean up. Didn't realise I look so bad."

"Tell me about this accident."

"Two blocks away from the hotel."

"Maybe I should take you to the emergency room." She looked worried.

"Just a minor cut. I can deal with it. I will go for a shower." He strode past her, got his things with him, went into the bathroom and closed the door.

She lay down on her bed and tried to get interested in the TV programme, but after a few minutes got up and turned off the television set, then moved restlessly around the room. Maybe she could make Damon a cup of tea, she thought.

Two weeks ago she still believed Damon was one of the three suspects involved in Katherine's death. Now she was in a hotel room with him alone and she was worried about him. She was so scared just now when he didn't answer his phone. She realised she cared so much about him. She didn't want to lose him. She couldn't.

The bathroom door opened and Damon stepped out. His hair was still wet. He just wore a pair of shorts, no shirt. He dropped his dirty clothes on the floor beside the bed.

Only then did he look at her, and when their eyes connected it was with an impact that stole her breath. He reached her in two strides. Before another heartbeat, she was being crushed against him and his mouth was on hers. Their kiss was long and lusty and left her wanting more.

When his lips skated down her neck, she threaded her fingers through his hair. "What's that for?"

"I had a really crappy day and I needed it." He breathed the words against her lips before claiming them again.

His body was hard, his skin still damp and warm from his shower. When he spread his hand over her bottom and fit her against his lower body, she made a small, yearning sound. "Damon, tell me about the accident."

"No. Not now."

"Are you sure you don't need to see a doctor?"

"No. I only need you."

A gravelly sound vibrated in his throat as he lifted her against him and carried her to the bed. "Take off your top." Her mind was spinning because of what his fingers were doing inside the front of her pyjamas bottoms, but she could think clearly enough to do as he asked. She pulled off her tank top and tossed it aside, then folded her arms around his head as he lowered it to her breasts. His mouth was hot and possessive.

The dual sensations of his swirling tongue against her breasts and his stroking fingers deep inside her, combined with the edginess of her emotions, rapidly brought on a shattering orgasm. But the release was momentary. When she coasted down from it, he was peeling her shorts down her legs, and once she was free from them, he kissed her softly just above her pubic hair. Gently, so that she barely felt the pressure of his thumbs, he exposed her to his tongue. The touch was feather light, but it sent an electric pulse of pleasure through her, breath-stealing in its effect, and the second orgasm, or maybe just an extraordinary aftershock of the first, radiated from it.

He didn't stop until she came at least once again and was listless and breathless, begging him softly to give her a moment. "Oh, Damon," she whispered. She wanted him now, deep inside her.

As if he understood her plea, Damon backed away but only to remove his shorts.

And when she saw him her breath caught in her throat because he was…so beautiful. Straight and proud, his manhood stood out from its bed of dark brown, almost black hair, his desire for her obvious in its tiny jerks as it throbbed and pulsed.

Before she got caught up in the moment, before the heat of their passion could sweep her away, Elena rolled over and reached into the night stand for the box of condoms Damon had put there. She turned back to Damon and when she saw that he had come nearer, when she got a full frontal view of his anatomy, her mouth went dry.

"Let me get you ready," she whispered.

With not an ounce of shyness about him Damon came closer still, his manhood jutting forward, and rested his hands on his hips.

Elena tore a packet open then with trembling fingers she proceeded to roll the condom onto his shaft. Why was she shaky? It wasn't the first time she had done this with Damon. Get a grip, she told herself. But it always felt like the first time whenever she was with Damon.

The job done, Damon put his hand on her shoulder and pressed her back into the pillows. Then he climbed onto the bed and ran his hand over her belly and down to her inner thighs. Damon gave a low growl deep in his throat then bent his head so his lips were at her belly button.

And then he came to her, sliding his body up the length of her, covering her with his muscled frame. As he positioned himself, Elena wrapped her legs around his lean hips and held her breath.

And then slowly, carefully, he lowered himself and as the tip of his member pressed against her she closed her eyes and drew in her breath, preparing herself for his entry. He pressed forward, until he was sliding into her moist heat, sinking deep into her core.

She released her breath in a soft sigh, her body filled with the length of him, every nerve ending tingling in response to his presence.

And then he began to move, rocking gently back and forth, and waiting for her body to grow used to him. Then he began to thrust into her, slow and deep, then smoothly, rhythmically until he was going faster, deeper, his breath coming in gasping groans.

And with each thrust she rose up to meet him, her body taking in all that he had to give, her breath growing tighter in her throat, her body consumed by their embrace.

And then her body stiffened, and the heat that had been rising in her inner core burst into a thousand stars that shot through her body, sending waves of ecstasy rippling through her.

"Damon," she whimpered, and clung to him as the waves of passion dashed her against the rock in her arms. He was her Damon tonight.

As she clung to his shoulders he gave one last thrust. His body stiffened and he groaned her name out loud. And then he was following her, reaching his peak of passion, climaxing deep inside her. For long seconds he held her tight as his body jerked and his manhood pulsated inside her. And then, expelling a rush of air from his lungs, he collapsed on top of her.

Almost a minute passed with neither of them speaking. The room was filled with the sounds of their recovery as their breaths came in choking gasps then slow, deep breaths, until they both slid down off the pinnacle.

Then, with a sigh, Damon rolled over onto his side and pulled her into his arms, stroking her gently as his breathing slowed and his body grew calm. And still, they said nothing. It was enough to be in each other's arms, enjoying the moment and what they had just shared.

And when Damon settled deeper into the bed and pulled her hips into his groin, holding her in spoon fashion, she did not fight his embrace. And when he held her like that for several minutes until his chest rose and fell at her back and his soft breathing told her he had drifted off to sleep, she did not murmur or pull away. She relaxed against him and closed her eyes, a soft smile of satisfaction on her lips.

x x x

"Damon?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you awake?"

Squinting against the cruel glare of the overhead light, Damon rolled onto his back and came up on his elbows. He yawned. "What time is it?"

"It's almost seven o'clock." Elena raised her hand and touched his jaw. "Did you take any blows to the head?"

"I can't remember." He caught the fingertips in one hand and raised them to his lips. "Could be that I did and it gave me amnesia."

"Damon….."

He drew one of her fingertips into his mouth and bit gently. She drew in a sharp breath. "Relax, Elena, I'm okay. Just a little bruised."

"All right," she said, "let's have it. What exactly happened out there?"

"Someone tried to brain me with a golf club to get some cash. He missed. That's the end of the story, as far as the local police is concerned."

For an instant she didn't think she had heard him correctly.

"What?" She had a hard time getting the word out. Her tongue felt thick. "Someone tried to kill you?"

"He is a burglar. Spent two years in jail. They thought he probably wanted some cash."

"But you don't believe it," she whispered.

"You don't kill to get cash. Definitely not using a golf club."

"Oh, my God, Damon. Do you think Ansell deliberately sent him out to murder you?"

"I don't think is Ansell."

Her eyes widened. "You think Esther is behind this? But why does she want to kill you?"

"Maybe not. Maybe she just wanted to send a warning." He looked thoughtful. "Make it clear that it would be best if I stayed out of her business."

"I think we should talk to Richard Lockwood."

"I wish like hell it was that easy. Trust me, at this point it would be a complete waste of time. Nobody will believe us."

"Why?"

Damon's mouth twisted grimly. "He will assume I'm backing you up because you're sleeping with me."

She cleared her throat. "I see. He will think that you are blinded by passion, is that it?"

He nodded. "Richard will dismiss our story because it's Esther Mikaelson we are talking about."

She felt a chill through her. "What are we going to do?"

"Don't know yet. I need to do some thinking."

"What about Ansell?"

Damon contemplated that for a long moment.

"I'm starting to believe now that Ansell has nothing to do with Katherine's death. He is dragged into this because of his affair with Esther. But we should still check on what he said. I'm sure my boys could easily find out whether he was in Logan Fell's housewarming that night when Katherine was killed."

She touched his elbow lightly, wondering how much he hurt. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this. You could have gotten yourself killed last night."

He looked at her. "Don't apologise. It's not your fault." He dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

"What are we going to do next?" she murmured.

"I don't know." He leaned back against the pale sheets, his hands linked behind his head. "But I think we need to talk to Esther again."


	15. Chapter 15

"This way please, Mr Salvatore and Miss Gilbert," the blonde with short curly hair said. "Mrs Mikaelson is in a meeting but she will be back shortly."

Damon and Elena followed her across the foyer, past pairs of graceful white pillars, down two steps, and halfway across an immense living room with white marble floors, to a trio of light green sofas that formed a broad U around a huge glass cocktail table.

Elena's gaze bounced nervously from the checkerboard and checkers that rested on the table's surface to the grey-haired man who was seated on one of the sofas, then back to Esther's secretary. In uneasy confusion Elena glanced at the secretary and then at the light blonde-haired man who was watching her. "We are here to see Mrs Mikaelson," she explained.

"Mikael," Damon said. "I didn't expect to see you."

"It has been a while since I last saw you, Damon." The man smiled politely, standing up. "This must be Miss Elena Gilbert."

Elena stared at the grey-haired man. He was slim and fit, with light blonde hair and piercing green eyes. "I don't think we have met, Mr Mikaelson."

"You are the Counsellor from Richmond," Mikael scoffed mildly. "I have heard all about you."

"It looks like there is no secret in Mystic Falls." Elena said coolly.

"It's a small town," Mikael said.

"Obviously," Elena said. "Where's Esther?"

"She is meeting an important client at the moment. Why don't you two have a sit?" He motioned toward the sofa before he turned to face the blonde woman. "Sloan, will you get us some coffee?"

"Sure, Mr Mikaelson," Sloan answered before she withdrew, closing the door behind her.

"We can talk to Esther another time if she is busy," Damon said.

"She won't be long." Mikael sat down on the sofa and stretched back. "We can have a chat while we wait for her."

Both Damon and Elena settled on the sofa. Damon was the one who spoke first. "When did you get back into town? I thought you are on a business trip."

"Last night. Late," Mikael said easily. He turned his attention to Elena. He looked at her intently. "You do look like your sister, don't you?"

Elena looked at him, surprised. "What do you know about my sister?"

Mikael chuckled. "Katherine. How could I forget her? She was always with the boys." He looked at Damon. "Almost inseparable. You boys adored her, didn't you?"

"We were good friends," Damon confirmed quietly.

"You three were in love with her, weren't you?" Mikael paused to gage Elena's reaction. "The three boys fell head over heels for her."

Elena glanced at Damon and her heart gave a funny little lurch. She tossed a half-hearedt smile at Mikael. "Katherine was beautiful. I'm sure most boys would adore her."

"Yes, she was beautiful. Just like you." Mikael watched her. "I like the way you dress," he whispered. His gaze travelled from her eyes to her lips.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "Thanks." The way Mikael was watching her made her nervous. She could feel Damon tensed up next to her. She cleared her throat. "What about Ansell? I heard he was your business partner."

Damon held his breath. Something dark and menacing flared in Mikael's eyes.

But Mikael did not lose his control. For a split second his features twisted into a mask of raw fury. But in the next instant a smile appeared on his face.

"Ah, Ansell, my old mate," he said in a chatty tone. "Ansell is always popular among the ladies. Every woman he met fell for him. And he would make sure of it." He turned back to Damon. "You might want to be careful, Damon. He might take away your woman."

Damon's jaw clenched. He didn't miss a beat. "I would destroy any man who takes away my woman."

The absolute finality of that statement made Elena catch her breath. But she couldn't deny she was pleased with his answer. Then there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Mikael said. "Here's our coffee."

After Sloan set the coffee on the table, Mikael thanked the secretary with a nod. Sloan withdrew. "How do you take your coffee, Miss Gilbert?"

"Just cream, no sugar. Thanks."

Mikael looked at Damon. "I like my coffee black," Damon said.

Mikael passed the cup of coffee to Elena and sipped his coffee. "How serious is it? You two sleeping together?"

Elena choked on her coffee.

Damon's brows bunched and quivered in annoyance. "See here, my private life is none of your business."

Mikael flopped back in the sofa. "Right. Sure. Your business."

"Mystic Falls sure is a small town, isn't it?" Elena said.

Mikael chuckled. "It's not the size of the town, it's the people involved."

Damon frowned. "What the hell business is it of the town? A man's got a right to his personal life."

"Everyone in town knows it and they are talking about it," Mikael said very casually. "Are the two of you planning to stay shacked up here like this indefinitely?"

"Shacked up?" Elena managed a politely blank expression. "I don't believe I'm familiar with the term."

"Ridiculous." Damon sucked in an outraged breath. "No one uses that phrase anymore."

Elena tightened her grip on his arm. "Damon, I don't think this is the right place to go into this."

"Why not?" Mikael said rather curiously, "we are all interested to know how long are you two going to shack up together out there at the Salvatore boarding house."

Anger surged and Damon glared at Mikael. "We are not shacking up."

"Sort of hard to believe your words, Damon." A voice interrupted.

Both Damon and Elena turned. Esther came into the room, looking confident. There was an invisible aura of authority and importance about her. When she walked into a room, you knew it.

"Esther," Mikael said as he rose from his seat. "They have been waiting for you."

"I'm sorry. I'm meeting a very important client." She smiled at them and gave them a keenly interested glance. "So what they say is true? The two are you are sleeping together."

Damon's fists clenched but Elena managed to speak before he lashed out at Esther. "We are here to talk about Ansell."

Esther's smile stayed in place but Elena thought she saw it tighten a notch or two.

"Both Mikael and I have known Ansell for a very long time. Three of us are good friends."

"Why did Ansell leave fifteen years ago?" Elena glanced at Mikael before turning her gaze back to Esther. "He was your business partner. Was the rumour true then? He had an affair with you."

"Rumours are rumours. You shouldn't believe rumours, Miss Gilbert" Mikael said in a low voice. "Ansell left because he wanted to form his own company in Richmond. We are still friends. There is never any hard feeling." He paused. "Esther and I have been married for almost forty years. I trust her."

The sudden anger in his voice made both Damon and Elena look at him.

"There wasn't anything between Esther and Ansell," Mikael voice roughened with tightly controlled rage. "Esther is faithful to me. She always has."

Elena exchanged a glance with Damon. "But you saw Ansell recently," Elena said neutrally.

"It's about a business proposition." Esther looked at Mikael and he nodded his head, telling her to continue. "Mikael was in Richmond, so I ended up seeing him."

Damon narrowed his eyes. "The two of you met in the park because of a business proposition. Who would believe that?"

"Esther is telling the truth," Mikael said. "It was Ansell's idea to meet at the park."

"What did the two of you discuss?" Elena asked.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you, Miss Gilbert," Esther answered. "It's business. It's confidential. I can't leak out any information."

"I hate to say this." Mikael turned his wrist slightly to check his watch. "Esther and I have a lunch appointment with the mayor in ten minutes."

Both Damon and Elena stood up. Damon looked at Elena. She raised her brows but said nothing.

"You can call my secretary for an appointment if you want to talk to me again, Miss Gilbert," Esther said.

"We better get going," Damon said dryly. "We don't want to disturb your lunch with the mayor."

Damon was a bundle of simmering outrage. Elena could feel him vibrating on the seat beside her.

"Do you believe what they said?" she asked.

"Are you referring to Esther's meeting with Ansell or are you talking about the whole town are talking about our relationship?" He tightened his grip on the sterling wheel.

He was tight and wired, Elena realised. His face was pinched with irritation.

"People have been talking since the day I arrived," she said evenly. "It didn't seem to bother you so much at first. Why are you going ballistic now?"

He gripped the wheel and braced himself. "Aren't you upset that everyone thinks we are shacking up?"

"You can't stop gossips." She shrugged. "Shacking up is quite a term. You have got to make allowances for the older generation."

"Now you're starting to say it, too. For the last time, we are not 'shacking up.' "

"Okay, okay, take it easy."

Damon pulled into the driveway of his house, stopped the car near the front porch and switched off the engine.

"You really don't mind people are thinking we are shacking up, do you?" He sounded annoyed.

"Stop fuming, Damon." She gave another shrug. "It's not a big deal."

That did it. He turned halfway around and flung his arm over the back of the seat. "What's that supposed to mean? What's not a big deal? You mean our relationship is not a big deal?"

There was a beat or two of silence. She watched him with a shuttered look.

"You want to know what I'm thinking now?" she asked a little too softly.

"What?"

A smile played at the edges of her mouth as she leaned close to his face. "I think you are cute." She planted a kiss on his cheek and got out of the car, leaving him inside the car with a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

x x x

"I think you are cute."

Damon frowned at Elena's words while chopping the onion that sat on the cutting board. How could she use the word cute to describe him? Cute was defined as attractive, especially in a dainty way or pleasingly pretty. People used the word cute on a child, not on a man.

He finished cutting up the onion and tossed the pieces into the food processor. He was a full-grown mature adult. He was not a child. He wasn't cute.

So why on earth did she think he was cute? He added the pitted olives, three different kinds in all, to the onion. He dumped the rinsed capers and some freshly squeezed lemon juice into the bowl.

He would be pleased if she told him he was handsome, gorgeous or even sexy. But definitely not cute. He snapped the lid onto the food processor.

He was furious just now because Mikael used the term "shacking up" on his relationship with Elena. But Elena didn't seem to mind. What was she thinking? He drummed his fingers on top of the food processor. Did she really think they were shacking up together in Mystic Falls?

He switched on the food processor and thought about Elena while the machine turned the mixture inside the bowl into tapenade. No, they were not shacking up. And no, he was definitely not cute. He had to make sure she understood all these.

"Hey, what are you cooking? It smells nice."

Elena brought him out of his disturbing reverie as he came up behind him at the kitchen stove.

"Spaghetti with home-made sauce," Damon answered grumpily.

"Great! I'm starving."

She smiled at him as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He turned off the food processor and watched her. She drank the water under his watchful eye, placing the empty bottle on the worktop when she was finished.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

She shrugged casually. "Nothing."

"You think I'm cute." He sounded pissed.

Elena swallowed a giggle. With his fists clenched on his sides, Damon strode towards her. She ran her eyes down his lean physic, delighting in the stiff bulge at his groin. When he finally reached her, he got up close and personal with her face, breathing his hot breath all over her as his lips skimmed her cheeks, her eyes, her chin, finally resting gently on her lips.

Elena hummed in pure pleasure, opening her mouth, but he broke their kiss.

"For your information, I'm not cute," he told her in a warning tone.

She shivered, catching her breath. "You are pissed because I think you are cute."

"Don't ever use the word again," he hissed.

"You," she pointed her finger in his face, "are crazy!"

His lips form a straight line. "You drive me crazy, lady."

"No, I didn't."

Within two seconds flat, she was grabbed and scooped up in his arms. The next thing she realised she was on her back atop the bed with Damon looming over her.

She didn't even have the chance to fight. His lips smashed against her, starting to work her mouth greedily. There was no chance to fight him off or ask what he was doing.

Minutes later they were both naked in bed. He flipped her onto her hands and knees, his fingers moved over her entrance before he grabbed a condom from the nightstand and slammed into her on a garbled yell.

Elena cried out.

'Just remember, I'm not cute," he grated, through merciless pounds.

Oh hell! She was completely helpless as he thrust in and out with complete determination and purpose. The depth he was hitting soon had her vision blurry, her head spinning with desperation and pleasure. His hand moved to her hips, pulling her back against each of his hard advances.

"Damon!" Elena yelled desperately. He was merciless.

'I said, I'm not cute," he barked.

As her pleasure built and built, she found herself pushing back against him. He groaned on each thrust, powering forward at a mind blasting rate, colliding with her womb and sending her into a haze of shocked euphoria. She tried to grab a pillow, but her disorientation had her grappling at nothing but sheets. She couldn't find the strength to lift her head and use her eyes. She was completely helpless.

She felt his grip on her tighten, the tense and swell of him pounding into her was stretching her beyond comprehension.

His thrusts sped up and with one last pump and deep slow grind, she was charged with a mind-blowing orgasm that had her burying her face in the mattress to stifle her scream of release. His horse cry echoed around the room as he joined her in her crazy bliss, collapsing on top of her, panting loud in her ear. He was jerking and shuddering inside and all around her.

That really was shock and awe. Elena was completely depleted and grabbing at valuable air to give her lungs some relief.

"You are not cute," she panted, closing her eyes, soaking up the warmth of his body.

"Yes, I'm not cute," he breathed, moving her hair from my face and skimming her bare skin with his tongue.

Elena sighed happily, letting him nibble and licked her all over.

"And we are not shacking up," he said between tongue strokes.

"We aren't?" she murmured into the sheets.

He withdrew, flipping her over and pinning her wrists on either side of her head. He gazed down at her, his hair was now in disarray, but he looked no worse for it. "No, we are not shacking up." He dropped his lips to hers.

He took a whole other tactic with her mouth, swirling his tongue, humming into her and nibbling her lips. It was a world away from the ferocious attack she had just sustained.

"So are we having an affair?" Elena asked around his lips.

"Affair?" He pulled his face back, giving her a really disapproving look. "We are not having an affair."

"So what are we doing here?" she whispered.

"Making love." He brushed his mouth across hers.

"Oh."

He bent his head again and put his mouth to her throat. She felt the edge of his teeth against her skin and excitement stormed through her. She wrapped her arms around him and stopped thinking.


	16. Chapter 16

An hour later Elena joined Damon in the kitchen. He handed her a glass of wine before getting the French bread with garlic butter out from the kitchen. Elena lowered herself onto a chair and took a sip of the wine. It was lovely, she thought.

A smile appeared on her face as she watched Damon served her the spaghetti and salad.

He raised his brows. "What?"

"Nothing." She tucked straight in to the spaghetti. "This is really good," she mumbled around a mouthful of spaghetti. "You really know how to cook."

"Glad you like it," he muttered before sitting down across the table.

They ate in silence for a while, occasionally tossing stares at each other. The food was wonderful, and Damon was feeling guilty for not enjoying it as much as it deserved.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

He paused with his fork half way to his mouth. "I'm thinking about Mikael and Esther," he answered, taking his last mouthful of food and pushing his bowl away before picking up his wine.

"You think they are related to Katherine's death?"

"I'm not sure," he answered. "If what Ansell said was true, then either Mikael or Esther could be the one Katherine tried to blackmail."

"Or both of them." Elena thought about it. "They must be hiding a secret."

"We are making an assumption," he said. "Mikael was in Richmond when Katherine was killed. Esther was in Logan Fell's housewarming party. She couldn't disappear from the party without being missed that night."

Damon swirled the wine in the glass. "In a blackmail case there are others besides the victim who have a motive to kill. Anyone with an investment in the person being blackmailed might be moved to do something drastic to stop the extortionist.

Elena straightened in her chair. "Are you suggesting someone close to them might have killed Katherine?"

"Klaus."

Wine sloshed over the side of her glass. She sputtered wildly. "What!? Klaus?"

He watched her across the table. His jaw was hardened. "I hope I'm wrong, Elena."

"But he was in Richmond."

"I know."

"He was in love with Katherine."

"I know."

She slowly lowered the glass. "Do you seriously believe it was Klaus who killed Katherine?"

He sighed. "No, I don't."

"I had spoken to Klaus. I do believe he was truly in love with Katherine."

"You think I don't know that?" Damon raised his voice a little. "He was crazy about your sister."

"You won't kill someone you love," she whispered. "It's crazy."

They sat quietly, looking at each other. After a few moments, he leaned back in his chair at a slight angle, his eyes rapt with determination. "I trust Klaus. I don't think he killed Katherine. But I will find out the truth."

Elena reached over and seized his hand. "We will find out the truth. We will."

Someone talking on the phone woke her sometime later. She realised it was Damon on the phone.

"Thanks Liv. I appreciate your help," Damon said.

Who was Damon speaking to? Who was Liv? Elena wondered.

She got out of bed and put on her robe. Damon turned and crossed the small space that separated them and kissed her lightly.

"Did I wake you?" he asked softly.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Liv Parker. She is an ex-colleague of mine. She is now working as a private investigator. I have asked her to do a background check on Mikael and Esther," he said.

"It's not illegal stuff, is it?" she asked curiously, sounding concerned. "I know some private investigators help their clients do some illegal stuffs."

Damon looked at her. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Good," he said. His arm—strong and firm—went to her waist and he pulled her against him, close enough that her breasts pushed up against his chest.

"Did you really mean it?"

"What?" He leaned in and gently kissed her mouth.

"We aren't shacking up."

He tensed. "Are we back to the shacking up issue?"

"I know you love Katherine." She saw Damon frowned at her words. "But she hurt you. You are hurting all these years. You are probably rebounding from her antics. That if you were using me just to get back at Katherine because I'm her sister, you are the most sincere-seeming man ever. Because everything you did so far made it seem like you truly wanted me."

His brows snapped together. "Is that what you believe? You really believe I'm using you to get back at Katherine?"

"Okay, then tell me what makes you like me. I'm here to investigate Katherine's death and I treat you as a suspect," she shot back. "I didn't come here to seduce you."

He raised his brows. "You seduce me?"

She frowned and disengaged herself from his embrace. "Just to be clear – I have never seduced you."

He moved closer to her. "I know."

She drew a shaky breath. "If I'm not Katherine's sister, will you still feel the same about me, about us?"

His thumb grazed her lower lip, his gaze on her face. "Yes, I'm hurting all these years because I'm wrecked over of Katherine's manipulation. I was so disappointed in her I could hardly stand it. When you appear in Mystic Falls, I think, for the first time in fifteen years, I'm really truly done with her. I'm attracted to you the moment you walked into the mayor's office that day. Every time you laughed, every time you smiled, it turned me on. I want you."

She gazed up at him. "Damon…"

"I want you so much I can hardly stand it. It's not just because you happen to be here and I'm horny. It's because it's Elena here, and Elena that makes me happy every time she smiles."

She stared at him for a beat. Then she closed the short distance between them, leaned forward, and pressed her mouth to his.

Kissing Damon Salvatore was better than ice cream. Sweet, creamy chocolate ice cream with hot fudge dripping down the sides. Tasty, but not nearly as appealing to her senses as the warm breath of the man kissing her. Of his tongue slicking against her own in response to her kiss. Of his mouth opening wider to accept her tongue. Of the groan he made when their mouths locked, and the way his hand stole down to her ass and clenched her against him and he wanted her like he wanted no other woman.

And when her mouth parted from his, a small, dreamy sigh escaped her.

"I love you, Elena," Damon murmured, and cupped her face with his long fingers.

"I love you too, Damon Salvatore." She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him in for a long, scorching kiss.

x x x

After breakfast the next morning, Damon sat at the kitchen table and opened his computer. There was an email from Liv.

 _Thought you might find the attached interesting._

There were two attached documents. The first document was from a newspaper in Mystic Falls. It was dated a little more than fifteen years ago.

The Founding Families had lost billions in a hedge fund investment in Richmond.

The second document was a registration of the hedge fund in Richmond. The name of the register was Michael Mitchison.

"What did Liv manage to find out so far?" Elena sat down onto the chair next to him.

Damon's forehead creased in a trouble frown as he scanned through the attachment. "I remember about this news. It happened about a month or two after Katherine's death. The Founding Families lost heaps of money in a hedge fund investment. Logan Fell, who was the president of the Founding Families had to resign from the position because of this incident."

"There is always a risk when it comes to investment."

"But look at this." He pointed at the second document. "The register was Michael Mitchison."

Elena frowned. "Who is Michael Mitchinson?"

"Mikael Mikaelson."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"The Mikaelson family was originally a small tribe in South America. They moved to America in 1800s. They were warriors. They conquered and eventually became wealthy. Eventually they settled in Mystic Falls in early 1900s. Klaus told me his great grandfather had changed their surname to Mitchison at one stage because he wanted it to sound more American. Klaus is also known as Cade Mitchison."

"Nobody knows about this?"

He shook his head. "Klaus' grandfather had decided to use their tribe surname again after World War 2. I don't think anyone in Mystic Falls would remember the Mikaelson family is also known as the Mitchison family."

Elena sat back and shoved her fingers into the front pocket of her jeans. "Do you think this is fraud?"

Damon thought about that. "I think it is a possibility."

A new email popped up on the screen. It was from Liv.

 _The hedge fund's annual reports look terrific but I have asked someone to examine the details. There are some serious anomalies._

He sat forward and folded his arms on the table. "Mikael used a different name to set up his own fund and persuaded Logan Fell to invest the money of the Founding Families in the fund. But the miraculously successful hedge fund turned out to be not so miraculous."

"No," Elena said. "But in this case it is strange that Mikael used a different name to set up his own fund."

"Because he didn't want to anyone know he owned the fund."

"Right," she said. "And all the money was gone."

"I think," Damon said, speaking very deliberately. "Mikael took all the money."

x x x

Damon parked his blue Camaro at a short distance from the garage apartment in Hampton.

Elena unbuckled her seat belt. "This is where Logan Fell lives?"

He cracked open his door. "Yes. He moved to Hampton after he resigned from the Founding Families fifteen years ago."

Glancing out the windows, Elena saw the pecan trees that grew in the yard separating the garage apartment from the nearby house. The trees gave it its privacy, making it looked cosy and quiet.

She opened her own door and climbed out. "I bet it must be difficult for Logan Fell. He used to be the President of the Founding Families in Mystic Falls."

"The other members of the Founding Families were very upset about the investment."

"Who wouldn't be? We are talking about billions here."

They walked up the stairs and came to a halt to the front door. There was no doorbell. Damon banged the brass eagle knocker a few times.

"Yes?" A woman said, opening the door.

"Meredith Fell?" Damon asked.

"Yes?" Meredith glanced expectantly at them.

"I'm Damon Salvatore," Damon replied. "I'm here to see Logan."

Meredith went still. "What do you want from Logan?"

"I'm Elena Gilbert. I'm from Richmond District Attorney's office," Elena said. "Is Logan around? We would like to talk to him."

"Can we come in, Meredith?" Damon asked.

Meredith hesitated briefly before swinging the door open wider and stepped to one side, allowing them to pass.

"Thank you." Damon entered the apartment and Elena followed behind him. "I'm sorry for turning up out of a sudden but we really need to see your husband."

The interior of the apartment was tidy and comfortable. Elena glanced around as she sat down on the vinyl-covered couch. There were large windows looking out over the tree-shaded yard and the white shutters had been pushed aside to allow the people inside the apartment a vista of the green expanse.

Meredith returned shortly with a pot of tea as well as two teacups and saucers balanced on a tray.

"I don't drink coffee, so there is no coffee in the house. Only tea," Meredith said as she placed the tray on the coffee table.

"Tea's fine," Damon said. "Whatever's handy."

"Tea sounds great," Elena said gently.

"Why do you want to see Logan?" Meredith moved to a corner of the sofa.

"I'm a Salvatore. My family is also one of the Founding Families," Damon explained.

"I know the Salvatore family. How's Giuseppe and Zach?" Meredith asked.

"Uncle Zach is still in Mystic Falls. He is looking after the family business after my father passed away," Damon said.

"I'm sorry. I offer you my condolences on the loss of your father," Meredith said softly.

"He died of a heart attack a few years ago," Damon said. "There was no suffering. I believe it was a good death."

"I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love," Meredith said. Tears welled in her eyes. "My heart still aches so much whenever I think about Logan."

Both Damon and Elena stiffened. Damon was the first to recover. "What happened to Logan? Where is he?"

A tear rolled down Meredith's cheek. "Logan is dead. He is dead."

The announcement hit both of them like a blow in the stomach and robbed them of logical thought.

Damon found his tongue first. "When did Logan die?"

With the back of her hand, Meredith scrubbed the tear away, sniffed back the runny wetness in her nose. "Logan died a year after we moved here."

"What happened?" Elena found it difficult to believe Meredith.

"Logan started drinking since he left Mystic Falls. I was scared." Meredith said. "His drinking problem became worse and worse. Eventually I had to ask for help. I brought him to see a doctor and a therapist. Things seemed to be better initially." She paused before continuing. "Then the police came to our apartment one night. Logan's car went down the cliff. The whole car was wrecked when they found it. They reckoned Logan was killed instantly."

Elena exchanged a glance with Damon.

"The police said there were empty bottles of whiskey in the car. They believed Logan was drunk when he was driving. His car probably spun out of control and crashed down the cliff." Meredith sniffed her nose again.

Damon straightened from his seat. "I'm sorry to hear about Logan's death. But I need to ask you some questions, Meredith. I hope you can help us."

"What do you want to know?" Meredith asked.

"What do you know about the Founding Families investment fifteen years ago?" Damon asked. "The investment where billions were lost."

"We lost everything because of that investment." Rage flashed in Meredith's eyes. "Logan lost everything because of that stupid fund investment."

"Why did Logan decide to invest into that fund?" Elena asked. "Was that a particular reason?"

"He thought the fund had its potential and its annual report showed terrific results. He had never thought things could go wrong. Initially we were earning money. Heaps of money."

"What went wrong?" Damon asked.

"Logan had no idea. The fund was still strong and earning money in one day and the next day everything turned bad. All the money was gone within days," Meredith said bitterly. "Logan couldn't believe it. Neither did I."

"Did Logan talk to the fund company?" Elena asked.

"Of course he did," Meredith answered. "But the fund company said there was always a risk with fund investment. Sage said Logan was unlucky."

"Who is Sage?" Elena asked.

"Sage is Esther's cousin. She worked as the broker in the fund company."

Elena exhaled slowly. "Sage recommended the hedge fund to Logan."

"Sage was a star broker at that time. Good-looking, young and sexy. She had a nice list of clients and a good record in her investments. She had been helping the Founding Families in investment for more than two years."

Back in the car, Elena glanced at Damon.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked.

"There were too many coincidences in this." Damon steered the Camaro in a tight circle and drove down the road that led away from Meredith's garage apartment. "Esther's cousin was the broker in the fund company. The hedge fund owner was Mikael. This was clearly a fraud."

"Mikael had planned all these, hadn't he?"

"I think so," Damon said. "Logan was the scapegoat because everyone in the Founding Families believed it was his mistake."

"He lost everything, including his life because of that."

Damon turned right onto the main road. "Maybe it wasn't as simple."

Elena raised her brows. "What do you mean?"

"Meredith said Logan was improving after seeing the doctor and the therapist. So what made him started drinking again?"

Elena shivered. "You didn't believe it was an accident."

"Car accident caused by drunk driving. Only one victim, Logan Fell. That kind of accident is not difficult to arrange if you know what you are doing. And if you don't have the skill set, you can hire someone else to set it up."

"Good grief." Elena sank deeper into the leather seat, stunned all over again. "Logan was murdered. But why?"

"My guess is Logan found out the owner of the hedge fund."

"Make sense." Elena pondered this for a minute. "Okay, let's try this from another angle. Mikael set up a fund to get his hand on the Founding Families money. Logan became the scapegoat and had to leave Mystic Falls. Soon he realised it was a set up because Sage was Esther's cousin. Maybe he found out Mikael was the owner. So Mikael killed him."

"You are making a huge assumption here, Counsellor."

"It's not an assumption. I'm using my best judgement."

"You are missing something though."

She took a breath. "Katherine."

"If my guess is correct again. I suspect Katherine was murdered by someone she was attempted to blackmail."

"The blackmail material was the hedge fund."

Damon nodded. "Katherine found out the owner of the hedge fund."

"Mikael," Elena whispered. "Mikael killed Katherine."


	17. Chapter 17

Damon and Elena were sitting close together at the big table, studying the documents sent by Liv Parker.

"Okay," Damon said. "I think we may have the first, faint glimmering of a full-on conspiracy theory."

"What, exactly, are you thinking?" Elena asked as she helped herself with some popcorn.

'I'm thinking that Mikael had used another name to set up a hedge fund with the help of Sage," Damon said. "Sage, being the star broker, persuaded Logan Fell to invest the money of the Founding Families on this hedge fund."

Elena exhaled all the way to her toes. She hovered there at the bottom of the breath for a beat and then inhaled.

"Mikael used the hedge fund to get his hands on the Founding Families money."

"Hmm, hmm."

"Logan became the scapegoat because the investment fell apart."

"Yes, the Founding Families would blame everything on him. Logan had no choice but left Mystic Falls."

"What happened to Sage?"

"She left Mystic Falls a few months later," Damon said. "Liv found out she had left the country for more than ten years."

"Another dead end."

"Probably a way to make sure she is safe."

Elena munched some popcorns while she thought about that. "Sage was worried about her safety?"

"She would be. What if Mikael didn't want anyone to know about the hedge fund?"

She stopped munching popcorn. "Logan Fell's death could be related to the hedge fund."

"According to the information provided by Liv, Logan had been doing a lot of research on the hedge fund when he was in Hampton."

"His drinking problem was under control and he realised something was wrong with the hedge fund. He started making a lot phone calls just before he died." Elena pointed at the phone numbers on a document. "The phone numbers were from Mystic Falls."

"It's Mikael's number," Damon answered.

"The thing is, we are talking about not just one, but two murders. Katherine was killed first before Logan. How did Katherine come into play in this? She was only a high school girl."

"Maybe just collateral damage as far as Mikael was concerned," Damon said.

"Katherine was with Klaus when she was killed. She must have found out about the hedge fund. She tried to blackmail Mikael, so she was murdered."

Damon frowned. "But that's a pretty serious accusation. And one we probably could never prove."

"If we can prove that Mikael was the owner of the hedge fund…"

He shook his head. "There's no way you can prove that Mikael Mikaelson is Michael Mitchinson."

"There must be documents on like birth certificates or ID…"

"No, Klaus said his grandfather had decided to use their tribe surname again after World War 2 and they had never used the surname Mitchinson anymore."

Elena slumped back onto her chair. "Another dead end."

"But there is genealogy book."

Her heart raced with excitement. "What?"

"Klaus showed me the genealogy book of the Mikaelson family. That's how I know about the surname Mitchinson," Damon explained.

"If we can get our hand on the genealogy book…"

"How?"

"We have to get inside."

"Inside?" he repeated cautiously. "Inside what?"

"Inside Mikaelson's house, of course," Elena explained. "Got no choice now. We need to get a first-hand look at the genealogy book."

"Hell, no!" Damon jumped up from his chair. "Don't you ever think about it. It's illegal."

"We have no other choice, Damon."

"No, no, no!"

"That's the only chance we have, Damon."

"Listen carefully," Damon warned. "This is too dangerous. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

x x x

He couldn't sleep.

Things were getting out of control and he didn't like it.

He had always been in control.

It was her fault. Thanks to her. He had it all planed and she came along, and almost ruined everything.

Therefore, he had to get rid of her and he did.

Everything was in place. After all these years, everything was in place. And then Elena Gilbert came back.

She had to come back and screw up everything.

Now he had to get rid of another nuisance in his life.

x x x

Elena's phone started ringing the minute she walked into the bedroom. Damon was still in the shower.

She reached for her phone and dread sweeping over her when she saw the word "private number" on the screen.

"Hello," she said, a wary tension in her voice.

That alien voice replied in its eerie monotone, "Miss Gilbert."

"Yes, who's this?"

"You don't need to know. I know you, and that's enough.'"

"Who is this?" she demanded.

"I know all about Katherine's murder."

Elena tightened her grip on the phone, unable to speak.

"Come to Wickery Bridge now and you will get the answer."

"Wait, don't hung up…"

The line went dead.

Elena looked suspiciously at the phone she held in her hand. Could she trust whoever was calling her? It could be a trap. But she had no choice, hadn't she? What if someone actually knew about Katherine's death?

Snatching up her keys, she slammed her feet into the nearest pair of casual shoes and exited the door of the bedroom, not even flinching when it slammed violently behind her.

A few minutes later, her phone rang again and it was Damon.

"Where are you?" Damon asked grumpily.

"Someone knew about Katherine's death."

"What?!"

"Someone knew about Katherine's death," she said. "I'm going to Wickery Bridge now."

"Wait, no! Elena, come back," Damon demanded. "It could be a trap. It's dangerous."

"I don't care. I need to find out. I will talk to you soon."

"No, Elena….."

She hung up and tightened her grip on the wheel.

Suddenly a pair headlights loomed up in her rear-view mirror and the vehicle zoomed up behind her, practically riding her rear bumper.

"Jerk," she muttered as she gave her car some gas.

Why would someone flash the headlights onto bright and leave them on? She thought. Didn't anyone know about courtesy driving?

The driver pressed on the accelerator and stayed directly on her bumper for the next minute. If he was impatient with her for driving the speed limit, why didn't he just go around? There wasn't a double yellow stripe prohibiting passing, but even if there was, anyone who didn't have qualms against tailgating wouldn't have qualms about breaking the no-passing law. There was no oncoming traffic to prevent him from passing her.

Raising one hand against the glare reflected in her rear-view and side mirrors, she could make out the silhouette in the other car. The silhouette appeared to be male, but she couldn't tell with any degree of certainty, and now she was going too fast not to keep both hands on the wheel.

Probably a kid, making mischief, too foolish to realize he was playing a life-threatening game. Someone should do a story on it, posing the question: Should the legal driving age be raised to eighteen?

After another minute or so, she was frazzled. Her hands seemed grafted to the steering wheel from gripping it so tightly. Her shoulders ached with tension.

"You win." She eased her car closer to the shoulder, which was nearly non-existent. But the driver didn't use the extra space to go around. Instead he pulled up so that his right front bumper was slightly overlapping her left rear one. She moved over more, until her right tires slid into soft mud. The driver compensated, keeping their bumpers only inches apart. "What is wrong with you, you moron?"

But her irritation was steadily turning into panic. This was more sinister than a teenager playing a prank. Should she speed up, slow down, stop? All of the options posed risks, especially the last one. She had no weapon. She hadn't seen another car for the last five minutes.

No, stopping wasn't an option. Slowing down hadn't discouraged him; he would simply pulled his vehicle closer to hers. That left her only one thing to do, keep her speed up and hope that they wouldn't crash before they reached Wirckery Bridge, or that the kid would tire of his game and leave her to go her way.

But instinctually she knew that wasn't going to happen. This was menacing, not playful. The man in the other car meant to hurt her.

The driver seemed to have an uncanny knack for keeping his headlights shining directly into her mirrors. He was blinding her. Going on the offensive, she pressed her accelerator to the floorboard and at the same time jerked her wheel sharply to the left. She missed clipping his right front bumper by a hair. Now back on the hardtop surface, her car surged ahead.

But the advantage was short-lived. The vehicle roared up behind hers, then whipped around the rear of it and overlapped bumpers again. "Dammit!" she shouted in fear. "Why are you doing this? What do you want?"

Again, she was blinded by his headlights, but up ahead she could make out the signpost for Wickery Bridge.

Elena's anxiety increased. She recalled what Damon had told her about the bridge. Wickery Bridge was a bridge and road that led in and out of Mystic Falls. Even with her limited knowledge, she knew that several great rivers converged and emptied into the river and from there into the Atlantic, their direction of flow shifting four times a day, depending on the ocean tide.

A lot of water. People died in it. Recently she had read a news on the recovery of a man's body. He was an experienced swimmer, but he had drowned when his fishing boat capsized. Two kayakers had been lost for days before their bodies were recovered miles downstream from where they had put in to take advantage of a river swollen by heavy spring rains.

She would feel safer once she was across that bridge. But when she sped up with that purpose in mind, the driver matched her speed and inched closer to her car.

In desperation, she pressed the gas pedal again. Just as she crossed the bridge, the driver outmanoeuvred her. He edged his car to the right, forcing her off the road and went off the bridge.

She was probably going close to a hundred miles an hour when her car hit the water. It slammed into the surface of the river with such impact that her air bag deployed. That saved her life but wasn't really a blessing. Because she was still conscious when her car was swallowed by the greedy, swirling water.


	18. Chapter 18

Damon was speeding toward Wickery Bridge, his blue Camaro eating up the miles, when he spotted the taillights ahead of him.

"What the hell?"

The first car had moved onto the shoulder, but the second car didn't pass. In fact, it looked like the tailgating guy was trying to nudge the other driver off the road.

He was gripped by a terrible intuition. Elena. And as suddenly as he thought it, the cars disappeared.

"Shit!"

It seemed to take forever for him to come out of the curve that had temporarily blocked the other two cars from sight, but once he did, he squinted for sharper focus. Unfortunately, he was too far away to make out the shapes of the taillights and determine the models of the cars involved in the dangerous cat-and-mouse chase. He pushed the pickup as fast as it would go, but the other cars were faster, and he couldn't close the distance.

Again they disappeared.

He counted the seconds. Twenty maybe? Thirty?

And then he had another flickering view of one set of winking taillights disappearing from sight altogether, and those of the tailgater speeding across the bridge.

Damon uttered a sharp cry as he crammed his gas pedal against the floorboard. It seemed to take a thousand years to cover the distance to the bridge. He pounded the steering wheel as though whipping the Camaro to go faster.

It skidded to a jarring stop just inches away from the brink of the eroding earth embankment that supported the bridge. He was out of the car before inertia settled it. He opened the toolbox and took out the heavy-duty flashlight, then grabbed the first weighty metal object he touched. A wrench. It would have to do.

He scrambled down the embankment, half sliding, half hopping. By the time he reached the water, he was huffing deep breaths to fill his lungs, then without a second thought, he dived in.

His flashlight had a powerful beam, but he might as well have been shining it through blackstrap molasses. He knew the river, knew how impenetrably dark the water could be even where it was most shallow, and this wasn't one of those places. Here, the channel was deep.

Frantically he swept the light from side to side and was becoming panicked when he spotted the car, settling heavily on the riverbed, surrounded by a nimbus of swirling silt. He shone the light in the direction of the driver's window. The beam picked up a pale palm, flattened against the glass, a strand of dark brown hair floating eerily in the feeble shaft of light.

Elena.

The flashlight blinked once and went out. The darkness was absolute.

He dropped the light, but gave a hard kick and within seconds reached the passenger side of the car. Feeling his way, he found the windshield and hammered the wrench against it as hard as he could. It didn't give. He pounded it several more times. Nothing.

His lungs were beginning to burn.

He continued banging the wrench against the windshield until finally he felt the safety glass break but not shatter. He kicked at it again and again until his foot pushed through. He widened the hole by continuing to kick, then wedged his shoulders through it. Broken glass scraped against his head and arms, but he ignored the pain.

Blindly he groped for Elena and found her right arm. When he touched it, she didn't react, and his mind screamed, God, no!

He groped for her seat belt. It was unfastened. She had managed to do that. He hooked his hands under her arms and guided her through the hole in the windshield, carefully but quickly. Neither had much time left. He was out of air, and she was completely still.

Once he had her clear of the windshield, he executed a hard scissor kick and used his free arm to claw toward the surface. His lungs were screaming for oxygen. He kicked as hard as he could, but his limbs were becoming heavier by the second, rubbery and uncoordinated. It had been five years since he'd done any rescue training; he was out of condition.

He looked toward the surface, but it was only a lighter shade of black. Still, he struggled toward it. Up. Up. And finally, his head broke the surface and he gulped a mouthful of air.

But Elena wasn't breathing.

He made sure her face was clear of the water, then began to swim to the bank. His body was still hungry for oxygen, and he was exhausted, but he swam as fast as he could against the current. When his feet touched bottom, he waded the rest of the way, then crawled up onto the bank, dragging Elena along with him.

He flipped her onto her back and straddled her. She had a weak pulse but wasn't breathing. Placing his hands in the centre of her chest, he began CPR.

"Come on, Elena," he said as he rhythmically pumped her chest. "Do not die on me. You are not finished yet. Come on, come on."

River water trickled over his face and into his eyes, but he didn't stop the compressions or the litany of encouragement that eventually took on the inflection of a dare. "Don't you dare try to die on me, don't you are! I love you. I can't live without you. Now breathe, goddammit!"

River water spewed from her mouth onto him. He dropped his head against his chest, weak with relief. "I thought that might bring you around." He turned her head to one side. She coughed and gasped, coughed some more. "Get it out, that's the way, that's good," he murmured, holding her wet hair away from her face as she vomited up the water she had swallowed.

When she was breathing more easily, she turned her head and looked up at him. Her eyes were streaming tears. Her voice was hoarse, and she strangled when she tried to speak. She spat out more water, then finally managed to say, "He tried to kill me."

He nodded. A thousand questions were demanding answers, but they would have to wait. He needed to assess her physical condition. But he also thought they needed to get the hell away from here. He couldn't be sure that his headlights had gone unnoticed by whoever was intent on pushing her off the road. The asshole might return to make sure she hadn't been rescued or by some miracle survived. If the would-be killer came back, they were sitting ducks.

"We need to get you to the hospital."

"I don't want to go to the hospital."

He didn't think so, but he didn't argue. He stood up and extended his hand to her. She took it and pulled herself up. But as soon as she was on her feet, her knees buckled. He caught her, then giving her no choice or opportunity to argue, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his car.

When they finally reached the car, he lowered Elena to the ground and propped her against the fender long enough for him to open the passenger door, then boosted her in.

Reaching across her, he picked up the windbreaker and put it on her, guiding her arms into the sleeves. He pinched her chin between his fingers and searched her face. Her lips were no longer blue. He picked up her hand and studied her fingertips. Colour seemed to be returning to them, too, although the dome light wasn't that bright, so it was difficult to tell.

Then he climbed inside his car, started the engine and pulled back onto the road. He headed in the direction of Mystic Falls Hospital. "Who was it, Elena?"

"A man."

He reached for her left hand and laid it, palm up, between them on the seat. He pressed his fingers firmly against her pulse. "You couldn't see his face?"

She shook her head.

"What kind of car?"

She shrugged.

"License plate?"

She shook her head again.

He counted her pulse. It was a little higher than normal but seemed strong and steady. "You need to go to the hospital."

"I'm okay."

"No, you are not okay. You nearly drown." His tone was harsh, but not from irritation so much as fear. If he had been a few minutes longer, if he had been unable to break the windshield, Elena would have drowned. The what-ifs made his hands tremble.

She did not argue this time. They rode in silence until she spoke again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise."

"I should have listened to you…"

"We will talk about that later. Now here's the thing. We will check you out at the hospital. Your body temp is okay, and your circulation has returned. Before my flashlight went out, I saw your hand pressed against the window. You were conscious then, so you couldn't have been out long. Maybe two minutes in total, which means there's probably no brain damage."

"But your oxygen level should be checked anyway. You have got some bleeding cuts and scrapes from when I pulled you through the windshield, possibly a concussion. There may be sediment in your lungs, although you'd probably be coughing if there was any significant amount. CPR keeps your blood circulating until you can breathe on your own, but when there's a near drowning victim, there are emergency treatment protocols that…"

"Damon?"

"What?"

"Somebody killed Katherine. Somebody tried to kill me."

"I know."

"Mikael," she said softly. "Mikael is behind this."

"We can't prove it."

"Did you see the other car?" she asked.

"Couldn't make it out. Too far away and too dark."

A shiver went through her. "What should we do now?"

"Right now I'm getting you to the hospital."

x x x

"Are you sure you are okay?" Damon watched Elena as she sat down with a wince, curling her legs under her in a recliner. He went to the kitchen to look for some ibuprofen in the cabinet. After shaking a few into his palm, he grabbed a can of soda from the refrigerator and brought them back to Elena. "Take these," he demanded, handing her the can and dropping the medicine into her open hand. "You should stay in the hospital."

"I'm just scraped up, Damon," she told him adamantly after she had swallowed the pills. "Even the doctor said I'm fine. I don't like hospital. I prefer to stay here."

Damon shed his leather jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, taking a seat across from Elena on the couch. "But I'm still worried about you."

"I'm fine, Damon," Elena reassured him.

"Elena, you have no idea how afraid I was just now," Damon confessed. "When I saw you inside the car and you weren't breathing, I went completely nuts. I was so afraid you would die. You can't die. I won't let you die." Not one single other thing in the world had mattered when he had seen Elena lying unconscious on the bank. "It was so close. I was so close to losing you."

Elena couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything except watch Damon as he moved from his seat to where she was sitting. He reached for the clip in her hair and released the knot on top of her head as he growled. "You scared me to death, Elena. You really scared me to death."

Elena swallowed before replying. "I'm sorry. I should have listened to you," she rambled nervously.

"Don't apologise anymore," he rumbled, thrusting a hand into her hair. "Do you know if you died, I wanted to die too? I didn't want to go on living without you."

"Oh Damon…"

"Don't you ever scare me like that. You heard me?" Damon rumbled against her lips as his mouth came down on hers. He groaned against her lips, his hands pushing under her flimsy tank top to touch her bare skin.

Elena wrapped her arms around his neck, revelling in the feel of the coarse hair between her fingers as she speared her hands into his hair. Intoxicated by the masterful strokes of Damon's tongue, she shivered and opened wider to him, giving him the access he was ruthlessly demanding. He slid one hand under her hair, stroking the back of her neck, the action both sensual and dominant as he held her head in place for his rough possession.

She whimpered into his mouth as he caressed the skin of her abdomen, and then yanked her bra up and let her breast spill into his hand. He wasn't gentle, but the last thing Elena wanted was tenderness right now. Her body was on fire, her core flooded with heat and clenching with need. Damon's touch was what she needed: hard, hot, and unrelenting. And he gave it to her. He pinched and stroked, first one nipple and then the other, repeating the action while plundering her mouth until the tension in Elena's body was nearly making her insane.

He ripped his mouth from hers, his breath coming in heavy pants. Elena was just as breathless and she let her head fall back, giving him access to the sensitive skin at her neck as he explored it with his tongue, his whiskered jaw abrasive against her cheek. She closed her eyes, every nerve in her body pulsating, electrified. "Take me to bed, Damon," she whispered huskily.

Damon stood and carried her toward his bedroom.

She felt her feet hit the plush carpet in Damon's bedroom as he lowered her slowly to the ground, their bodies sliding together until she found her footing. His expression was volatile, his eyes dark with hunger and desire as his mouth came down on hers. Raw need ripped through her and she tightened her arms around his neck as he plundered her mouth, burying his fingers in her hair, pulling her mouth tighter against his. One hand came down and gripped her ass tightly, pulling her up and against his hard erection, making her moan into his mouth with her desire for him to be inside of her. She was already wet, ripe for his possession.

Needing some skin to skin contact, she reached for his shirt, desperate to touch his bare skin. Within minutes, they were both naked.

Damon picked her up and placed her in the middle of the bed, pulling the bedding down roughly until it lay crumpled at the end of the bed.

"I need to be inside you, Elena. Now," he demanded as he slid his fingers down between her thighs and stroked through the wet heat that greeted him and groaned. "I love you, Elena."

"Take me, Damon," she begged him, needing to feel him, be connected to him.

"Hold on, baby. I don't think I can hold back right now," he warned her in a husky tone.

"No holding back," she demanded, wanting him to take her rough, make her his.

She gasped as his fingers plunged between her thighs, stroking through her folds to tease her clit. He moved through her heat possessively, covetously. Two of his fingers dipped into her channel, curled around the sensitive place inside her that made her go completely insane. "Damon," she whimpered, needing him to make her come. Her body was tight and she trembled.

"Tell me, Elena. Tell me." He kept up his rough, sensual assault.

"I love you," she cried out, throwing her head back as he intensified the pressure to her clit, and touched her with his fingers—harder, faster, stroking over her g-spot with every pump.

"Oh, God." Her body convulsed.

"Come on my fingers, Elena. Let go," he commanded.

She didn't have much of a choice. Her climax hit her hard and fast, intensifying as Damon removed his fingers and impaled her with his cock. His groan of ecstasy had Elena rocking against him. She clenched the fabric of the bedsheet as she felt her body coil tightly again.

He thrust harder and buried himself deeply inside her with every stroke. Elena moved against him; their skin slapped together as they both reached their breaking point.

Damon was going to make her come, and she wasn't certain she would survive it.

"Mine," he declared roughly. Their eyes locked together.

"Yes." She nodded her head, keeping her eyes locked with his.

One of his hands slid down her belly, searching for and finding her clit. He grasped it roughly and rolled it between his index finger and thumb.

Pleasure and pain ripped through her, the feeling so intense that it sent her body into a powerful climax.

"That's it, baby. Come for me," Damon insisted dominantly.

She imploded as if her body responded to his commands. The walls of her sheath spasmed wildly and her reaction was so strong that she dropped her head, breaking eye contact with Damon.

"Pull your head up. I want to watch you," Damon growled. He tilted her head by her hair again. "Watching you come is the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he groaned as he pounded into her.

"I love you," Elena screamed.

"I love you, too, baby," Damon answered in a strangled voice, and pumped into her one last time before he found his own release.

They shuddered together. Damon collapsed onto her as the last ripples of her climax faded. "Jesus, you will kill me. But I would die this way anytime," he whispered low and heated in her ear.

He rolled to his back so she could breathe, and then pulled her close. She snuggled up beside him. He grasped her hand and entwined their fingers together as they caught their breath.

"We didn't use any protection just now." She stroked her hand over his powerful chest, unable to stop herself from touching him.

"I'm clean. I have checked just to make sure after we slept together for the first time," Damon confessed. "I don't want any woman except you."

"I'm clean too." Elena took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I want to feel you inside me," she admitted in a tremulous voice. "Since we slept together for the first time."

He rolled on top of her and pinned her hands over her head. "Marry me, Elena. Stay with me forever."

Her eyes widened. "I don't know what to say."

"Say yes," he answered immediately in a voice that was both demanding and hopeful.

"But I don't know how to cook."

Damon laughed, a happy sound that filled Elena's heart with joy.

"I should have known you would be worried about food." He grinned down at her. "I can cook. I really don't mind cooking for you."

"You will teach me." Elena smiled at him.

"Only if you want to learn. I really don't mind. I like to cook."

"I do want to learn. What if you're sick and can't cook? What if I need to take care of you?" Her expression was anxious.

He smiled at her. "You can hire someone."

"Nobody will ever take care of you except me," she told him adamantly. "I'll learn."

"So is that a yes?"

"Yes." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "Yes."


	19. Chapter 19

Mexico

The beaten, battered, and bruised woman lying on the living room floor of her apartment moaned weakly, barely conscious after the beating he had given her. No, he didn't beat her. He wanted to kill her. She couldn't believe he had wanted to kill her. Now he had left her here to die.

Survive! Survive! Survive!

Opening one swollen eye, she stumbled painfully to her feet. It was time. If she didn't get out soon, she knew she would die.

Run! Run! Run!

Stumbling to her closet, she put together a few essentials, stuffing them into a battered bag. Grabbing her purse and her phone, she made her way painfully back to the living room, stopping as she heard heavy steps in the hallway.

Was he back? Please let it not be him.

Holding her breath, she waited until the footfalls passed her door, her entire body trembling with relief as she released the breath in a rush, and put a shaky hand on the doorknob. She was alone.

She had to help herself. She couldn't stay here.

If he found out she was still alive, he would kill her again.

Because she knew his secret. She knew too much.

She couldn't let him walk away from this. She had nothing to lose. She would find a way to make a new life for herself.

Survive! Survive! Survive!

The woman fled and she swore he would pay for this.

x x x

Damon needed a place to think. And a cup of coffee. So he drove to the nearest restaurant, Mystic Grill.

They found a booth at the back. Elena ordered tea. He went for the hard stuff, a double espresso.

"What are we going to do?" Elena asked after a while. "We can't let Mikael walk away."

"We can't prove Mikael is behind this. We don't have anything."

"He tried to kill me. Twice," she said tightly. "He killed Katherine."

"I know," he said. He reached out and gripped Elena's hand. "He won't be able to get away from his crime. I promise you."

"Did the PD manage to find the car?"

Damon shook his head. "Nothing. But they managed to find your car in the river."

"What should we do next?" Elena asked. "If Mikael had failed to kill me last night, he may decide to make another pass."

"We should be alright in the meantime," he said. "Mikael won't risk making another move here at the moment because it would be too damn obvious."

Elena shuddered. "Mikael is a cold-blooded murderer."

"He can be vicious." Damon drank some of his espresso. "But we will get him eventually."

"We need to get the genealogy book."

He shook his head again. "Not possible."

"We need to stop Mikael," Elena lowered her voice. "Got no choice now. We need to get the genealogy book to prove that Mikael is Michael Mitchinson. Then we will give all the information to the Founding Families and the mayor. We will let the Founding Families know the hedge fund was a fraud."

"But how are we going to get the genealogy book?" he asked.

"Damon, do you remember where did Mikael keep the genealogy book?"

"In the study. It was kept a large wooden book shelf in the study," Damon answered. "But that was years ago. Mikael may have kept it somewhere else now."

Elena thought about that. "You may be right. But we have got no choice. So we will have to take our chance."

"How do you plan to get us inside?" Damon asked, looking interested.

"We all know that the Mikaelson will never let me step foot inside the house alone." Elena gave him a meaningful look. "That leaves you."

Damon took a deep breath. "What do you want me to do?"

Elena pulled out an envelope from her bag. "I found this in your mailbox this morning. I figure the wedding reception of Klaus and Hayley will give us the perfect opportunity."

"Us?" Damon's eyes widen. "You are coming too?"

She smiled. "You are bringing me along as your date."

"My date?"

She nodded. "Yes. Your date." She paused. "Unless you have someone else in mind."

"Of course not," Damon said quickly. "I want you to be my date."

"It's settled then."

"But how are we going to get inside the study?"

"Shouldn't be too hard," Elena said. "Everyone will be busy with the reception. Don't see why we can't slip out at some point and take a look in the study."

"So you get to play the detective Counsellor huh?"

She smiled. "You should be glad that your date has such a good detective instinct."

He grinned. "I'm always good in my choice."

x x x

The hallway was lined with office doors fitted with opaque glass. Damon could hear the din of muffled voices in the distance. The noise came from the large reception room in the intersecting corridor.

The wedding reception of Klaus and Hayley was in full swing.

Elena stood beside him in the shadows. Her hair was pinned into a sleek, graceful knot at the back of her head. She wore a close-fitting, midnight-blue dress made out of a stretchy, slinky fabric that moved when she did and a pair of sexy, strappy heels.

He could think of a couple of other things he would rather do with her tonight than search for a genealogy book. But duty called.

"We are all set," Elena whispered.

"I still say this is a really bad idea," Damon muttered. "What if we get caught prowling through the study?"

"If anyone stops us, which is highly unlikely given that they are all very busy with the reception, we will say we were curious about the house. Big deal. You really think anyone would arrest Damon Salvatore and his date who just happened to wander into the wrong hallway here at the house?"

"You never know."

"Stop worrying. You are a little tense tonight."

"You know this is illegal, right?"

"Take it easy," she said. "Everything will be alright."

"Yeah. Right."

"We will get in, take the genealogy book and get out. Tomorrow we'll turn the genealogy book to the Founding Families. That will be the end of it for us."

"How do we explain if we are stopped by a guard?"

"No problem," Elena said. "You take the genealogy book and get out of here straight away."

"What about you?"

"Mikael won't do anything to me."

"No way am I leaving without you," he growled. 'If we get caught, you will run and I will deal with the guards."

"Trust me. Everything will be alright."

"All right," he said with annoyance. "Let's get it over with and get out of here."

She started off down the hall toward the study with long, determined strides. He fell into step beside her, marvelling at how well she could move in the sexy shoes. Together they prowled deeper into the mansion. The sounds of the wedding reception faded into the distance behind them.

At the far end of the passage Damon found the study. He turned the door knob and found the door unlocked.

"We are in luck." He eased the door open and stood aside to allow Elena to enter. "The genealogy book should be inside the study."

She moved into the study and stopped.

"Where does Mikael keep the book?" she said in a low voice.

"Right here."

He walked to the nearest book shelf and opened it. There was enough light filtering through the window from the parking lot lamps to reveal the bones of the study room.

"Did you find it?" She leaned around the edge of the book shelf.

"I think we have found it." Damon pulled out a book from the shelf. The thick volume was bound in a rose-coloured cloth, its edges threadbare and worn. "The Mikaelson's genealogy book."

"What are the two of you doing here?" A sound appeared from the doorway. It was one of the guards.

"Holy cow," Damon said. "You grab the book and get out of here." He grabbed the book and hurled it toward Elena.

"Don't move. Stay there!" The guard lunged toward Damon.

Damon slammed into him. The guard went down hard on the floor. "Run, Elena! Go back to the house and get my computer. Go to Liz Forbe."

Elena broke into a run and went down the corridor. Damon tried to follow her but was stopped by another guard. "Don't let him go. He took something from the study." The other guard had already heaved himself upward.

"What's going on here?" Mikael stormed into the study. Klaus was behind him.

"Damon?" Klaus asked. "What are you doing here?"

"He took something from the study," one of the guards said. "There was a woman but she had escaped."

Mikael came to a halt, brows bristling, jaw clenched, and glowered at Damon. "What do you think you are doing, Salvatore?"

Damon smiled wryly. "You can't escape, Mikael."

Mikael frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Klaus looked confused. "Damon, what's going on?"

"You set up a hedge fund and with the help of Sage, Logan Fell invested the Founding Families money into the fund. It was a fraud. You took all the money."

Klaus rasped, "What? I don't understand."

Mikael swept out a hand. "This is absolutely nonsense."

Damon stared at him. "Nonsense? You set up the hedge fund using the name Michael Mitchinson. Don't pretend you have no idea what I'm talking about," Damon continued. "You stole billions from the Founding Families. Logan Fell became the scapegoat."

Taken aback by that, both Mikael and Klaus stared at him.

"You killed Katherine because she found out about the hedge fund." Damon continued to stare at Mikael. "You killed Logan Fell as well because he soon realised it was a fraud."

Klaus gasped. "What? You killed Katherine?"

"That's nonsense," Mikael roared. "I didn't kill Katherine. I didn't kill Logan. I didn't kill anyone."

"You tried to kill Elena. Twice." Damon glared at him. "You damaged the brake of her car. You thought it would make it look like an accident. Then you tried to kill her the other night by knocking her car off the Wickery Bridge."

"Nonsense," Mikael said. "All nonsense. Where did you get these?"

"The genealogy book will be a hard proof that you are Michael Mitchinson. Elena will get the book to Liz," Damon said dryly. "You can't escape, Mikael."

Klaus whipped his attention to Mikael. "Father, how dare you? Why did you kill Katherine?" His voice cracked. "Why?"

"Now, son," Mikael said in placating tones. "Don't believe what Damon said. I didn't kill Katherine."

"You know I loved Katherine. Why did you have to get rid of her?" Klaus said.

"I was in Richmond when she was killed," Mikael explained. "How the hell could I kill her?"

"You can hire someone to do the job for you," Damon answered.

"I didn't!" Mikael almost shouted. "I didn't kill Katherine. I didn't set up any fund, for goodness sake! I had nothing to do with The Founding Families money."

"Mikael didn't lie. What he said was true." Esther walked into the study. A woman dressed in a black dress followed. Her eyes and face were bruised. Although she had covered the bruises with heavy make-up, one could still easily see them underneath the makeup.

"Sage," Mikael said. "I thought you left the country."

"Yes, I did," Sage answered. "I was in Mexico for the last fifteen years." She turned to face Damon. "Mikael had nothing to do with the hedge fund. It was his plan to take the money from the Founding Families. He wanted Logan Fell out of the Founding Families."

"Sage, what the hell are you talking about?" Damon asked. "Who are you talking about?"

"I thought he loved me. That bastard nearly killed me the other day." Sage was weeping. "He nearly killed me."

"Richard Lockwood," Esther said. "Richard Lockwood was the one who set up the hedge fund."


	20. Chapter 20

By the time Elena got back inside the Salvatore's house, she was shivering and she gave an involuntary whimper. Terrible scenarios raced through her mind. What if Mikael hurt Damon?

"God, please make sure Damon is safe," she whispered as she leaned her head against the front door.

"What took you so long?"

She spun toward the voice and found Richard Lockwood standing behind her, a gun pointed at her chest.

Elena froze. The mayor in Damon's house pointing a gun at her? Try as she might, she couldn't make it register. The whole scene seemed so ludicrous, so surreal. She blinked, but when she opened her eyes, Richard was still standing behind her with a lethal-looking gun pointed directly at her.

"Mr Lockwood? What…what is going on?"

Never taking his gaze from her, Richard's face looked serious. "I have warned you. But you are too stubborn to listen."

Elena's head snapped up. "You are the one who tried to kill me?"

Realisation hit her like a brick to the side of her head. It was Richard. Richard was the one who had been trying to kill her. He was the one who damaged the brakes. He was the one who had been threatening her with the phone calls. And that night on Wickery Bridge, Richard was the one who forced her car off the bridge.

"You killed Katherine."

"Ah, you finally get it right."

"But why? What did Katherine do to you? Why did you kill her?"

A dark cloak of anger slipped over Richard's features. "She was greedy. She found out about the hedge fund and tried to blackmail me. Said she needed the money to leave Mystic Falls."

Elena exhaled slowly. "You were Michael Mitchinson. You set up the hedge fund, not Mikael."

Richard chuckled. "Sage told me about the history of Mikaelson's family. Nobody will ever find out I'm the one who set up the hedge fund if I used the name Michael Mitchinson."

"Why? The Lockwood family is rich. Why did you want to get your hands on the money of the Founding Families?"

He guffawed. "The money means nothing to me. My target was Logan Fell."

"Logan Fell?"

"Logan was smart and he was gaining popularity in Mystic Falls." Richard's voice roughened with tightly controlled rage. "He wanted to become the mayor. I couldn't let him get his hands on it. He was my strongest competitor. Almost all of the mayors come from the Lockwood family. And I'm no exception."

"You set up a trap for Logan Fell, didn't you? The hedge fund was a fraud. Logan became the scapegoat and was forced to leave Mystic Falls. You became the mayor."

"You understand. Surely as a career woman, you understand, Miss Gilbert. It's a competitive world. I did what I had to do."

Blood rushed to Elena's temples. "You bastard!" Without thinking, she moved forward, her hands clenched into tight fists.

"Don't move!" Richard aimed the gun at her head. "You shouldn't have come back."

She struggled to hold on to her white-hot anger. "You killed Katherine. You killed my sister."

"Katherine was too smart to approach me," Richard said. "She contacted Sage. And that bitch paid her off. I couldn't believe it. But Katherine was too greedy. She asked for more. I had to get rid of her."

"You lured Katherine to the woods and killed her."

"Gregor Bradley had followed her to the woods. I met him on my way out of the woods. He scared the living daylights out of me, standing there in the shadows so quiet. He went in and saw her. He fell down on top of her and started carrying on something awful. I saw him pick up the knife." He smiled gleefully. "That when I knew someone would take the blame for her death."

Trying to keep her voice steady, she said, "You won't get away with this. You're bound to know that. Eventually…"

"Excuse me, Elena. I would love to hear what you think will happen—eventually but trust me, nobody would ever think the mayor of Mystic Falls had anything to do with the hedge fund."

The coldness in his eyes frightened her. She knew Richard would kill her and nobody would ever find out the truth. Everyone would think the Mikaelson was involved instead.

"Damon will find out the truth eventually," she said.

He gave her a long, hard look from the top of her head down to her feet. "Katherine was a beauty. So are you. I'm sure Damon won't complain about having you in his bed. Am I right?"

Elena just stared at him, trying to keep her face expressionless while her mind was scrambling to devise a way out, a means to survive.

"Not gonna share?" the mayor said. "Oh, well. Doesn't matter." He glanced at his wristwatch. "We got some time to find out how good you are in bed." He snickered. "I would like to see the look on Damon's face when he walks in and you are laying there with a bullet in your head."

Elena held her breath.

"Move over there." Richard pointed to the sofa in the living room.

Blanching, Elena moved quickly. Richard jabbed the pistol in her back, and she hurried into the living room. Desperation tunnelled through her. She knew he would rape and then kill her. That was when she saw her chance. It was a simple plan, and she had to act fast. Risking everything, Elena grabbed a vase on the side table. With all her might, she used both hands to swing it at Richard's head.

Startled, Richard let out a cry and fired the gun just as the vase slammed into his head.

With a scream, Elena started to fall backward and saw him stagger. Oh God! She was helpless. She couldn't run. Blood oozed out of a cut on Richard's head.

"You bitch!" he roared.

Everything slowed down. Elena screamed and held out her hands as he raised the gun toward her. His face was a hideous mask of hatred. He straightened. "You are going to die…"

Elena's entire life unwound before her. A shadow moved through the front door. Damon! Before Elena could move, he had leaped upon Richard. The gun went off. Elena felt a numbness in her right leg. She fell to the floor.

Damon balled his fist as he wrestled with Richard beneath him. The gun had flown out of his hand as Damon slammed him into the floor. He had seen Elena suddenly flung backward, landing in a heap. Blood stained her right thigh. She had been shot! Grunting, Damon put every bit of hatred for Richard into his fist. As his hand connected with the mayor's face, Damon heard his nose break. Several teeth broke. Blood splattered out of Richard's mouth as he cried out.

Elena's eyes widened. Richard's gun skidded to a halt right in front of her. Breathing hard, she scrambled to her hands and knees. Her right leg wouldn't work. Desperate, she crawled toward the pistol. Her hand shook violently, but she managed to grab the gun. Richard went limp beneath Damon's powerful punch. She watched numbly as Damon pulled a pair of cuffs from behind his belt and jerked Richard onto his belly. In swift, sure motions he cuffed the mayor. Now, she was safe.

Looking down, Elena noticed a huge red spot of blood rapidly moving across her right thigh. The shot hit her. She had been shot. Her survival instinct kicked in. She forced herself to try and stand, but collapsed again.

"Stay down," Damon shouted, getting up off Richard. "Don't move, Elena! Let me call an ambulance…" He walked swiftly to her side, his phone in hand.

She looked up at Damon's face. She felt his fierce sense of protection toward her. He had come back home for her. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How had Damon known Richard was here? _I should have told him I love him_ , she thought. _I didn't want to die. I didn't want to leave Damon._ Her tears blurred his image as he leaned down over her to examine the wound. And then, Elena felt her world spin. The last thing Elena remembered was Damon's anxious face as he pressed hard down on her wound to stop the bleeding.


	21. Chapter 21

"It's hard to believe that Richard Lockwood is the one who set up the hedge fund," Elena said. "He used the hedge fund to get rid of Logan Fell so that he could be the mayor."

"But Logan started asking questions once he had control of his drinking problem," Damon said. "Richard had to get rid of him permanently. He arranged the accident so that it looked like Logan was drinking again."

"Luckily Damon got there in time," Stefan said. "He could have killed you, Elena."

"How is Richard?" she asked.

"He is receiving medical attention in a private room," Damon answered. His fists flexed at his sides. "He should consider himself lucky that I didn't kill him with my bare hands."

They were gathered in Elena's hospital room at Mystic Falls Hospital. Elena was sent straight to the operating room on arrival and Damon had conferred with the deputies guarding Richard. Stefan had arrived just as Elena was coming out of surgery. Neither brothers had left her bedside during the night.

The surgeon had assured everyone that the wound would heal well and leave an interesting scar.

"Sage helped Richard to set up the hedge fund. They were having affair. Sage was a star broker at that time and Logan trusted her," Damon said. "He would have never guessed it was a set up."

"Sage and Richard continue their affairs for years. Richard didn't want his wife to find out about Sage, so she left the country," Damon continued. "According to the information from immigration, Richard visits Mexico at least once every two months."

"But he was worried Sage would tell his secret, so he tried to kill her as well," Elena said. She pushed herself higher on the pillow stack, sucking in a sharp little breath when fresh pain lanced her thigh. Damon frowned and started to lunge for the call button. She shook her head. "I'm okay."

Damon did not look convinced, but he subsided back into his chair.

"It was lucky that Sage survived. Otherwise we would have never known the truth," Stefan said. "And now we know who murdered Katherine."

"Katherine overheard Sage's conversation with Richard." Klaus stepped into the room. "She tried to blackmail Sage."

"But Katherine was greedy. She asked for more money," Damon said. "Sage confided the blackmail to Richard."

"Richard had to get rid of Katherine to keep his secret safe," Klaus said flatly.

Hot tears filled her eyes. It was the first time since the incident that she had felt weepy. Maybe the adrenaline was wearing off and exposing her to other emotions. "Damon, Richard admitted to killing my sister." Shakily, she wiped her eyes. "After he told me that, I don't know what came over me. I wanted to kill him for killing her. I can't believe I picked up that vase and hit him with it."

Gently, Damon said, "Elena, we are all capable of defending ourselves. And that's what you did. And anyone would be angry toward the person who killed their loved one."

"Damon is right," Stefan said. "Don't feel guilty over how you responded."

Klaus's mouth turned down. "Elena, I'm sorry." Hoarsely, he whispered, "I should have protected Katherine and I didn't…"

"Don't go there, Klaus. It's not your fault," Elena protested, her voice stronger with conviction. "You didn't know about the blackmail."

Klaus nodded but he did not speak.

"Don't do that to yourself, Klaus," Damon said fiercely. ""None of it was your fault. Nobody guessed Katherine would blackmail Richard and Sage."

"I guess none of us really knew Katherine," Stefan said. "Just like seasons, people change."

"People never change," Damon said. "They just become more of who they really are."

Elena sighed. "I'm just glad it's over."

"I have to get back to work," Stefan said. "I will drop by once I have finished my shift."

She smiled. "Thanks Stefan."

"I'm going as well," Klaus said. "Take care, Elena."

They left the room, leaving Elena alone with Damon. He got up and moved to stand beside the bed. He loomed over her and took one of her hands in his. The strength in his fingers felt good, she thought. It was the kind of strength you could rely on for a lifetime.

"You are sure you are okay?" he asked.

"I'm okay." She smiled. "As soon as the doctor is happy, I want you to take me home."

He nodded. "Okay, home it is."

"I can hardly wait, Damon. That's all I want right now – home and you."

x x x

Damon stood at the kitchen window a week later. It was almost end of autumn. Sipping his coffee, he turned and waited for Elena. It was only 8.00 am. Elena was still sleeping soundly in his bed.

A new sense of contentment blanketed him. He had asked for two weeks of vacation after the incident. As he drank his coffee, he felt a deep satisfaction that Richard Lockwood was in prison. And Damon was sure he would stay in jail for a very long time. The bastard deserved it. He had killed two human beings. And he nearly killed Sage and Elena. He was a bad seed and had made choices that took him down this particular path. At some point, Richard would permanently out of Elena's life. Nobody would hurt her again.

Damon wanted to be there for her. He loved her. He couldn't imagine his life without her in it.

One evening he had brought her a bowl of popcorn while she was lounging in the large leather chair in front of the fireplace, mindlessly watching a detective show on television.

Within minutes there was popcorn all over the place, and he and Elena were tangled up in the chair recovering their breath.

Both had remained dressed. Damon had thought that finding her erogenous zones inside her clothing was about the sexiest time he had ever had. Until a few mornings later when they had showered together. Propped against the tile walls, they had made love, as slippery, sleek, and playful as otters.

But whether he was ducking his head beneath her sweater to take her breasts into his mouth or squeezing a soapy sponge down the centre of her body and tracking the foamy trail with his eyes, he always had one hell of a good time.

So did she. She never demurred from openly expressing her enjoyment of all they did together.

Elena padded softly out into the kitchen in barefoot. She saw Damon standing at the kitchen sink leaning his hips against, cup of coffee in hand. He wore a grey long-sleeved shirt and jeans along with his well-worn leather boots. His hair was still damp, so she knew he had recently taken a shower. Giving him a soft smile, she said, "Coffee's ready?"

Damon nodded, poured her a cup and handed it to her. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept like a log. I had a good dream."

"Oh?"

Settling her hips against the counter, Elena sipped her coffee. "I dreamed I was taken out on a date. I was in a nice, cosy restaurant where there were champagnes and red roses." Looking up at Damon she said," You were there, too. Dressed in a black tuxedo. Looking sexy and gorgeous."

"A date with me, uh?" Damon asked, heartened by the dream.

Nodding, Elena took another drink of the coffee, eased away from the counter and set the mug down next to the sink. Moving in front of Damon, she placed her hand on his arm. "Damon, you have been wonderful. I can't imagine my life without you in it." Her hand tightened briefly on his upper arm where she felt his muscles respond beneath her fingers. "I will just go on loving you for as long as I live."

Her words were like sunlight flooding into his entire being. Damon set his mug down and brought Elena into his arms. She was soft and willowy, her lower body pressed against his. "I love you, too, Elena. You are a pain in the ass but I still love you." He smiled gently and cupped her face. "Nothing can stop me from loving you."

"Damon," she sighed. "You mean this?"

"From the bottom of my heart."

Leaning up, she kissed his recently shaven cheek. And then, her lips near his ear, she whispered, "You still owe me a date, Sergeant Salvatore." She pulled away to look into his eyes.

"I do remember, sweetheart," Damon told her. "But the date has to wait."

"Why?"

"Because we have far more important things to do now."

"Like what?"

"Throwing you back into my bed and never let you leave."

She laughed. "I just can't wait," she whispered against his lips as she undid his pants and slid her hand inside.

"Be my guest."

She released him and raised both hands to his head, sinking her fingers into his hair and cupping his scalp. "Kiss me. Kiss me right now."

Stretching up so that her lips were just beneath his, she added in a seductive whisper,

"I dare you."

The sound that issued from his throat was feral. The manner in which his lips swooped down on hers was savage. So brutal was his kiss that at first her lips were benumbed by it. Gradually, however, she was able to separate them. Then she felt the swift and sure thrust of his tongue. Madly, rampantly, rapaciously, it swept her mouth.

Like her, he buried his fingers in her abundance of hair and held her head in place for the plundering mastery of his kiss. He drew on her like a man starved, as though he wanted to suck her entire mouth into his. He pulled away to catch his breath. Even then, his tongue was flicking over her lips, tasting her.

Unappeased, he came back for more. And more.

And more.

Elena revelled in the carnality of his kiss.

She loved the texture of his tongue, the taste of his saliva, the firmness of his lips. Her senses wallowed in the pleasure of smelling his skin and feeling his hair—Damon's skin, Damon's hair. Damon's hardness gouging her middle.

As one, they dropped to their knees on the tile floors of the kitchen. Their mouths went on feeding frenzies over each other's face, indiscriminately moving their lips over cheeks, chins, eyelids.

When their mouths fused again, he sent his tongue deep, penetrating her mouth and saturating her with desire. His hands smoothed over her back, moved to her sides, rubbed the crescents of her breasts with the heels of them. Then, exercising no subtlety, he covered her derriere and pulled her against him.

Elena didn't even consider being coy. She allowed him to push suggestively against her cleft. She even gloried in the obvious strength of his desire and ground her middle against it.

Groaning, he wrapped his arms around her so tightly she could no longer move and whispered fiercely, "Stop or it'll be all over."

"Not yet. Not yet."

She put enough space between them to peel his T-shirt over his head. When it had been cast aside, her fingertips roved over him in an orgy of discovery, like a blind person who was seeing for the first time.

With a hungry whimper she leaned into his chest and pressed her open mouth upon it. He cupped her head, but allowed it to move freely from spot to spot. Her lips found his nipple in a spiral of dark, crinkly hair. Shyly at first, then more aggressively, she caressed it with her tongue.

Swearing in whispered agony, he set her away from him. "Take off your clothes."

"You take them off," she challenged huskily.

They stared at each other a moment. Elena held her breath until he took the hem of her shirt in his hands. He removed it over her head. His eyes became fixated on her breasts.

Reaching behind her, Elena unhooked her bra and let it fall. Damon's chest rose and fell in one quick, tortured gasp. She saw his stomach muscles contract, but he didn't touch her.

At least not intimately.

Pressing her shoulders, he guided her down to lie on her back on the floor. Without ceremony he unfastened her jeans and pushed it down her legs. Then he removed her panties.

Once they were removed, he slid his hand between her thighs. They groaned in unison.

The fingers that probed her were thorough, yet gentle. His thumb nimbly separated the folds and found that supersensitive tissue.

He only had to stroke it a few times before her blood began to bubble inside her veins and she saw lightning sparks in her peripheral vision.

"Damon!"

That was all the invitation he needed. He unfastened his fly and shoved his jeans past his hips. Elena boldly assessed him, but for only a second before he mated their bodies.

She gave one sharp, glad cry. Damon murmured either a profanity or a prayer. They remained like that for several tense moments.

Then, bracing himself above her, he withdrew partially and looked down into her face.

Eyes locked with hers, he slowly penetrated her again. She felt him deep, so deep that the immensity of his possession swept over, stealing her breath, seizing control of her senses.

His dark hair hung over his forehead, mussed and wild. His eyes glowed with the firelight, adding to his animalistic attractiveness. The muscles of his arms and chest bulged with masculine power.

She wanted to concentrate on how gorgeous he was, but he withdrew and sank into her again. He held her breast in one hand, circled the stiff nipple with his thumb. She shuddered.

Her eyes closed involuntarily. Her thighs gripped his hips. He slid his hand between their bodies, stroking her externally even as he pressed ever deeper inside.

And her love for him, which had remained unfulfilled for decades, finally culminated in a splintering, brilliant climax.

He let her savour it, experience all of it, even the shimmering afterglow, before he began moving inside her again. But Elena surprised herself and Damon by clutching him and raising her hips to meet his thrusts.

By the time his crisis seized him, she had reached another. They clung to each other, gasping, grasping, dying together.


	22. Epilogue

Damon stood behind Elena, shielding her from the December wind of Mystic Falls. The collar of his leather jacket protected his ears.

Her hair whipping around her face, Elena bent to place a bouquet of red roses on Katherine's grave. The wind caught her sigh as she straightened and leaned against him. His arms came around her.

"Gregor Bradley was released from the mental institution last week," she said. "He can finally leave the place."

"Social welfare is working on his case ensuring he has a decent place to stay. They will also provide food and medical care for him."

"That's good," she whispered. "I'm glad you took Richard Lockwood down."

"So am I," he said fiercely.

Even after all these weeks, he couldn't quite believe how easy it had been. Richard Lockwood was finally being sent to the prison in Richmond. Sage was also being charged for helping Richard in the fraud.

"I have heard Ansell is being charged for blackmailing Esther," she said. "We thought they had an affair but we were wrong."

Ansell had photos of Mikael and young girls in bed. It came out as a shock that Mikael Mikaelson had a penchant for having sex with young girls under sixteen. Esther was horrified if the photos got around and had been making blackmail payments to Ansell in the last fifteen years.

"Who would ever guess Mikael could be doing such things?" he said. "He will face justice. He deserves it."

"How's Klaus?"

"He will survive. He is a survivor."

And now, Damon had to know what Elena had planned for her future. He needed an answer. His hands gentle on her waist, he turned her in his arms.

"We need to talk, Elena."

"What?" she asked curiously.

"I know Wes called you yesterday. What are you going to do?" he asked. "When will you be going back to work?"

She dug her hands into her coat pockets and drew her shoulders up. "I'm not sure. In light of my injuries…"

He frowned. "I thought you said everything is getting better."

"Yes, everything is healing fine."

"No pain?"

"Not any longer. Basically, I'm as good as new, but Wes told me not to rush back to work. He knows the strain I have been under." She ploughed into the soft earth with the toe of her boot. "I'm not sure I want to go back at all." Sensing his start of surprise, she smiled up at him. "You will find this amusing, Sergeant. I might try something for a change."

"Like what? Find a new man?" Damon's words were teasing, but his eyes were serious.

"I went to see the doctor this morning. It took a while." Elena gnawed on her lip, not quite sure how to tell Damon what she needed to tell him.

"You okay?" The worry in his eyes increased. "I thought you said everything is healing fine."

"I'm fine." She put a palm to his cheek and smiled. "But I have something I need to talk to you about. Something important."

Damon took her hand from his cheek and kissed her palm. "Talk," he said gruffly, all of his attention on her. "Whatever it is, we will figure it out. Remember you are not alone. I will always be with you."

"I'm pregnant." Elena blurted the words out before she could think about it. They had been bottled up inside her all day, and she needed the support of the person who mattered the most to her in the world. Seeing the incredulous look on his face, she babbled on. "I went to see the doctor this morning and I mentioned a couple of symptoms. She made me take a test. Two tests. Both positive. She made a few calls and got me in to a friend of hers, an OB doctor. She did a bunch of tests. I'm pregnant."

He cocked his head and blinked at her. "I hope there is no problem with my hearing. I could have sworn you said you are pregnant."

"I did."

"You are pregnant."

"Yes."

"Oh my God!" Damon pulled her into his arms. "You are pregnant."

She laughed. "Yes, I'm pregnant."

"I'm going to be a father."

"Yes."

"Wait a minute. What about your job in Richmond?"

"I might consider being a full-time mum."

He lifted a hand to brush a straggle of hair from her cheek. "Are you serious? You want to quit your job?"

"I have never been so sure in my life," she answered. "Unless you don't want this baby?" There was a hint of hurt and confusion in her tone.

"I do want it. I want our child so much it hurts." Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a black velvet box. Nervously, he opened the lid. "I got this in Richmond."

The ring had a platinum band, an enormous diamond on top embedded into a heart crafted of the same precious metal and surrounded completely by more diamonds.

"Oh, Damon." Elena sounded breathless as she took the box, her hand trembling. "It's incredible. This must have cost you a fortune."

"Cost isn't exactly a problem," Damon reminded her with a small smile. "You are worth it." He pulled the ring from the box in her hand and slipped it over the ring finger of her hand. "Marry me," he demanded, not really wanting it to be a question. "Be my woman. Be my wife. Be the mother of my child."

"Yes." Her smile shook around the edges, but it came from her heart. "Yes, I will marry you, Damon Salvatore."

"I love you, Elena."

"I love you too."

"Do you like the ring?" he asked anxiously, not wanting to discuss the price or how he had gotten it so quickly.

Elena touched the ring reverently, her eyes shimmering. "There isn't a woman in the world who wouldn't. Thank you, Damon. I love it. I love you."

"Don't cry." He wiped the tears from her face gently. "It was supposed to make you smile."

"I am happy. It's just such an incredible piece of jewellery. You didn't need to do this."

"You have no idea how happy I'm now, darling. I was so afraid you would leave Mystic Falls. I plan to go after you if you decide to leave Mystic Falls. But now that I know you are having our child, I'm ecstatic. I know she will be as beautiful as her mother. I guess I'm a little in awe of the fact that we made a baby. Our baby."

Elena swiped at her tears. "How do you know it's a girl? Don't you want a boy?"

"I'm not choosy." He grinned at her, a smile that went all the way to his eyes, making them twinkle happily. "But I would take a boy if that's what you give me. I would be happy either way, sweetheart. He or she will be our child, and that's what will make the baby special, no matter what sex it turns out to be."

"A baby will change our life a lot," she warned him.

"Plans are made to be changed. I want to get married right away. I wanted it soon, anyway. This seems like a convincing reason to do it tomorrow." He grinned at her wickedly.

Elena smiled back at him. "But you owe me something, Mr Salvatore."

Damon raised a brow at her. "What?"

"A date. You owe me a date."

Damon's face lit with laughter.

"I owe you a date, huh?" he chuckled. "I promise I will make it up to you."

"I know you will," she murmured, brushing his cheeks with a fingertip. "Because you are keeping me."

"Yes. I'm definitely keeping you."

Bending down, he brushed her lips with his. Wintery warm and petal soft, they welcomed him in from the cold.

 _THE END_


End file.
